The Black Magicians Destiny
by snapeophil
Summary: TBMD is the sequel to my alternative ending to 'The High Lord'  The black magicians fate . The High Lord has made three promises in order to be reaccepted into the Guild. Will he be able to hold to them? Akk/Son Dan/Tay Dorr/? ;-
1. The woes of an Administrator

**A/N: *hopping up and down excitedly***

**Finally, the first two chapters of my sequel „The Black Magicians´Destiny" . I know the title is rather cheesy but for lack of another it remained that way.**

**This sequel starts directly after my alternative ending "The Black Magicians´Fate", so I advise to read that first should you not have done so already. And of course you are welcome to reread, as well :-)  
**

**I am planning to explore the characters in greater depth, so, if you enjoy Akk/Son moments and Dan/Tay moments and are up to some suprises you´re right here ;-)**

**At first I wanted to make this sequel link the BMT with the TST, but after some sleepless nights I found that this just doesn´t work and I had other things in mind...**

**Thank you to jaycest for many enlightening and funny discussions and a great idea concerning architecture in Imardin (see ch 3 when it´s on). Thanks to NhuAngel for teaching me what excessive use of abbreviations means (I tried to behave this time honestly :-) and most of all thank you very much to MoonMyst for beta-ing my story. You are awesome!  
**

**I am going on holiday next week, BUT...if you are nice and review I might just have some more finished chapters on my pc somewhere ^^**

**Disclaimer for all chapters: Still don´t own BMT or any of the characters...quoting another member of this site: I do however have a right on this insane storyline of mine and should anyone steal without my authorisation I´ll send him a nice volley of mindstrike! *dark unwavering stare***

**Ok, but here we go!**

**Enjoy and please R&R!  
**

CHAPTER 1

The woes of an Administrator

Lord Osen looked out of the window of his office and sighed. What eventful times to take over the post of Administrator. The City had been attacked by the old enemy Sachaka. Many magicians and commoners had been killed and Kyralia was still in a state of shock.

The High Lord of the Magicians´ Guild, Lord Akkarin, had been found guilty of learning and using black magic and had been exiled only to return and become the Saviour of the City by fighting the invading foreign magicians. Then he had been reelected – something that hadn´t happened in the Guild´s history before and had raised not only favourable voices in the Houses.

Then there was the High Lord´s favourite novice. Sonea had become a Black Magician, too, sharing his exile and fighting alongside her guardian when he came back. The Higher Magicians had lifted their restrictions on her allowing her back into the Guild. That had caused at least a few angry stares and some shaken heads. People thought she did not deserve the same treatment as the High Lord. After all she was only a slum girl and her origins did not make her trustworthy with a power like she now supposedly possessed.

In addition to the pressure the Houses were exerting on the Guild from the outside, life still had not turned back to normal inside. What had happened these last few weeks had shattered the foundations and innermost beliefs of the Guild. It would take a long time for the Guild to heal.

Administrator Osen rubbed his temples and stiffled a yawn. He remembered how he used to reprimand the former occupant of this office, the late Administrator Lorlen, whenever he had worked until late into the night, which had been nearly every night. And now here he was, Osen thought ruefully, worrying the night away. Already he felt aged in a way he had not felt before.

At least he had the man at his side, who he considered to be the only one able to deal with all these problems – High Lord Akkarin, Black Magician and skilled player of the game of politics.

Osen still did not like the High Lord, but he found that this did not mean that they could not work together effectively. In fact, both of them had taken on a polite but forward behaviour concerning each other, treading warily only where personal or even intimate subjects were involved. Still, there were a lot of situations in which Osen did not grasp what the other man wanted from him immediately. The High Lord would have to explain things to him, elaborate on hints and even repeat instructions from time to time.

Akkarin never let annoyance or anger show, but the Administrator knew that the Guildmaster missed his predecessor. I am not Lorlen, Osen thought. And every time he has to deal with me he is reminded of his dead friend.

The High Lord had changed since the Ichani invasion − at least outwardly. He was trying to be more approachable and open. However, Osen had realised quickly, that this did not mean that he had a better understanding of what was in this man´s head. He remained secretive, elusive and often unpredictable. The Guild magicians, however, seemed to accept the High Lord´s new demeanour gratefully. They wanted a strong leader they could trust and he was providing them with exactly this image.

The Administrator sat down at his desk and started reading yet another report of the damages done to the City during the invasion. He sighed again. It would take scores of magicians to fix all the houses and streets Kariko and his allies had destroyed in their mad quest. How was he to provide the Houses with enough magicians if they had to start to teach and control their volunteers and teach the graduated magicians how to store power? How indeed, when there were still so many doubts as to how they should proceed with these tasks. And then there was the impending graduation of the fifth year novices.

Osen uttered a heartfelt curse and indulged himself with a few blissful moments of hating the current High Lord for having brought that upon him. Then he let reason return and began to organise his resources of magicians in his mind, shifting and changing and arranging and rearranging their positions. The High Lord would expect him to come up with a reasonable suggestion of how to divide the magicians and appoint them to their respective tasks. And rightly so, Osen acknowledged grudgingly.

Well, you always wanted this post, so stop complaining, Osen. Lorlen was the best teacher you could get for this task. Honour him and serve the Guild as best as you can – the Guild and its leader.

With new determination the Administrator set about his task in spite of the late hour. A wind was blowing outside and the falling raindrops made a soft soothing noise on the pavement. He had worked for another three hours when two short knocks on his door made Osen look up to find the High Lord striding into the room.

"Good evening, High Lord."

"Good evening, Administrator," Akkarin replied smoothly, his gaze taking in the whole room, Osen and his desperately messed up desk all at once. "I see you have been working on the assignation of our resources. Have you come to any solutions yet?"

"Yes, High Lord." The black-robed man sat down and the Administrator explained about his calculations and plans. In spite of himself he found that he was nervous. What would Akkarin think about his suggestions? Would he find them satisfactory? After all he had been working with Lorlen for years so the High Lord was used to the highest standard from his Administrator.

Osen swallowed an unacknowledged disappointment when Akkarin only nodded and told him to progress the way he had planned it. The High Lord rose from his chair and turned to the door.

Before closing it behind him, however, the dark-haired man turned around and said, "You are working until late into the night, Osen. I hope I will not find you have become as efficient in imitating your predecessor in that field as in the others. I would dislike to constantly remind you of your health."

The Administrator drew in a breath and slowly released it. Although this had been delivered in a stern and commanding voice, he found that his heart was beating faster with relief after the High Lord´s praise.

Osen shook his head and snorted. So, you don´t like him, but still you are scared he isn´t pleased with you, aren´t you?

The blue-robed man decided that he didn´t need to answer his own question and followed the Guildmaster´s advice and went to bed.


	2. Social complications

CHAPTER 2

Social complications

Sonea felt the gentle rocking of the carriage as it made its slow way through the streets of the Inner Circle. The townhouse of the noble family Delvon of House Velan was located in one of the best quarters in Imardin.

Sonea shuddered. Family Delvon, one of the most powerful and influential Houses in Imardin and – Akkarin´s family. No, she corrected herself looking down at her right hand and the golden band on her ring finger, my family now, as well. A flicker of annoyance stirred in her when she saw the bare sleeves of her brown novice´s robes. Somehow the Incal there belonged to her now as much as the robes themselves. But I am not the High Lord´s novice anymore, she reminded herself sternly.

No, she was the dirty and poor slum girl with a dead mother and a father, who was probably out drinking or whoring around. She was the natural, who had caused the whole Guild to panic and who was known to consort with thieves. She was the disturbance in the Guild, a novice, who had turned against the law and had defied the King and who had learned black magic – yes, she was a daughter-in-law any noble House had to dream of.

Sonea tried to laugh about her own dark assessment, but somehow the laughter died in her throat. She was going to meet Akkarin´s mother, a noblewoman brought up in one of the richest of Houses. She would be well educated, musically inspiring and talented and she would have been taught etiquette by countless, spit-licking courtiers, no doubt.

Panic enveloped Sonea and she unconsciously tightened the grip of her left hand. The hand she was holding squeezed back. She looked to her left and once more she felt a rush of pride and awe when she saw the man sitting next to her.

He was wearing silken black robes, the Incal of the High Lord glinting against the dark material. He had lost the dark tan from the weeks in the Sachakan wasteland, but still he looked healthier than before, the sickly tinge gone from his fair skin. His dark eyes fixed her with an impenetrable gaze, a small knowing smile playing around his lips. His long dark hair had been arranged in an intricately patterned tail – in a way many noble men wore theirs at important formal occasions he had explained.

So, Akkarin considered this meeting to be of utmost importance. Even for him he had been unusually quiet and even subdued this morning. She had caught him staring out of the window of the residence´s dining room, brooding and barely speaking. He had not shared his thoughts or worries with her, but made conversation in his usual skilled way. His polite behaviour, however, had uncomfortably reminded her of his demeanour when he had still been only the intimidating High Lord to her – distanced, aloof, dignified, occasionally cold and secretive.

To her great dismay there were quite a few times she still did not understand him. During the fight everything had been brutally simple. They had been set at a target and had pursued it with fierce determination. They had had no need and no time to consider the other's intentions or wishes or fears. It would have complicated things beyond what had been strictly necessary. Kyralia´s safety had been their mission – that and, if possible, survival.

_And now I really have to get to know him, this man who is my husband. _

At that thought a pleasant cold shiver spread over her whole body, her heart began to race and her skin was covered in goosebumps. She still had not gotten used to sleeping in the same bed with him. To be free to touch his beautiful body and feel the warmth and strength of his arms around her, to taste his skin, to smell his enticing smell and make him moan – she felt colour blooming in her cheeks.

Her husband chuckled and leaned sideways brushing his long fingers caressingly over her face. "There I was thinking you were worried about meeting my mother, but now I am not so sure..."

Sonea immediately plunged into what she considered stilted talk at its worst. "Indeed. You are, as usual, very perceptive, husband. Might I inquire as to why you make this assumption?"

"It will be my pleasure, wife, to satisfy your curiosity. I could not help noticing that the colour of your lovely skin, that normally resembles the smooth and perfectly fair petals of a white lily in the morning sun, has heightened to the sinful red of a fully blossomed lovers´ rose."

Sonea blinked then laughed. "You´re right, about both."

Akkarin smiled at her. "The lily and the rose?" he teased. Sonea gave him a mildly reproachful look and shook her head.

"My thinking about your mother than straying to other subjects..."

"Somehow I am certain that these 'other subjects' are of a very interesting nature, but that you are not willing to divulge them right now. I shall wait demurely until those times you will tell me your secrets, oh heart of mine."

Sonea battered her eyelashes at him speaking in a girlish voice. "You truly are the most perceptive and generous man as had to be expected from one of such grand and noble birth. I am favoured by fortune to call you mine. Oh my –" She sighed dramatically and fainted into his lap.

Her husband laughed and caressed her back. She murmured something unintelligible into the folds of his robes. "...really...know...you...mother...like...me?"

"Excuse me?"

"...really...speak...time?"

"Sonea, I really cannot understand you."

"Hmmphhh." Akkarin´s wife surfaced again and this time her features expressed true worry. She hesitated before speaking.

"I was just wondering whether you nobles really speak like this all the time. Rothen did not seem to and I certainly cannot remember hearing these formal conversations in the Guild. And – I am very frightened of meeting your mother. I fear she will never accept me and ... and ... I think I´d rather face another Ichani right now."

Sonea looked up at Akkarin apologetically and felt a ball of ice forming in her stomach when she saw the short flicker of genuine concern on the High Lord´s face. Then his old mask settled over his face again hiding his true emotions. Akkarin turned and looked out of the window.

"Don´t, please." Sonea gently pulled his head back so that he was facing her. "I know that you are not sure about how we will be received as well. I can understand, but, please, don´t shut me out from your thoughts."

Dark, captivating eyes sought hers. Frighteningly, she once again found that she was barely able to hold this gaze. She had thought this had passed, that it was an unpleasant memory that belonged to the past. More uncertainty grew in the pit of her stomach. Her husband seemed to sense this change, because he took one of her hands into his and gave it a reassuring squeeze once more.

"It is not my intention to shut you out from my thoughts, Sonea. You are right. I am worried about our reception, but not only for your sake. You must understand that my actions and my exile put my family's name and honour at great risk. The playground of the Houses is ruthless and unforgiving and now that my family, or at least one member of it, has fallen from favour, there are many who would like to keep it that way. Already, they are greatly displeased by my re-election as High Lord. I am not sure if my mother will forgive my past actions."

Sonea felt anger rise inside of her. "Forgive you? You saved Kyralia. You are the Saviour of the City. She cannot ignore this. And the King did forgive you, he reinstated you – publicly. Your mother cannot hold that against you anymore, can she?"

Akkarin´s stare became cold as stone. "You don´t understand, Sonea. I have disgraced my family in the worst way possible. The day we were exiled I ceased to be a son of family Delvon."

"What? But the Administrator and all the other magicians called you by your full name. We − we were married to this name."

"You are right. Do not fear, I still own that name and title."

"Akkarin, I do not care for your title, I −"

"I still have not made myself understood, I think. I am officially still a member of this family. But since my father died, my mother is the head of House Velan. It is her verdict that determines how I will be treated by all members of my family and by other noble families, too. I need to regain my standing with them. As High Lord I hold a post of power within in the Guild and the Houses, nevertheless, my mother could make life miserable for us by influencing others, especially the King, against plans and suggestions the Guild makes. Can you imagine how inconvenient that would be in times like these? If we are to establish a friendly relationship with Sachaka, I need the nobles to support me in this."

Sonea nodded reluctantly.

"That my mother receives us, at all, is a very generous gesture. Therefore we must be very grateful and try to regain her favour as best as we can. This is not a question of pride."

Sonea thought she understood at last, but still she looked at the man at her side and found herself staring at a stranger. He was the High Lord of the Magicians´ Guild of Kyralia, he was a powerful Black Magician, a cunning player of the Game of politics. Others stood in awe of his accomplishments and his commanding presence. And now he suggested grovelling before his mother in order to appease her?

"No, I am not going to –"

"Sonea, I will not argue with you. It is expected of us and –"

"I am not going to let that woman humiliate you as a gift for saving her neck and that of all those other nobles." she shouted. Tears shone in Sonea´s eyes. She blinked them away angrily and stared defiantly at her husband. A sad expression settled on Akkarin´s features and he reached out and carefully wiped away her tears.

"I know you want to protect me and you cannot imagine how much that means to me, but – please, trust my assessment of this. I would ask you to follow me in this as you have done before."

Sonea leaned forward and kissed him fiercely. They clung to each other for another moment then they broke apart and Sonea leaned her head against his shoulder.

"I trust you with my life, Akkarin. You know this. I will try, but if she hurts you, I will not simply stand by."

Akkarin planted a light kiss onto her hair and whispered, "Thank you. I already feel a lot safer. Mmmmm, maybe I should drive ahead and warn my mother though."

"You are wilfully exploiting this to have a joke at my expense, aren't you?" Sonea bit out at him.

Akkarin chuckled and put an arm around her. "No, love. I really am very glad that you are with me tonight."

You´d better be, Sonea thought. She knew what she had promised, but she also knew that if this dreadful woman tried to make him suffer she would find it very hard to remain the demure and appreciative guest.

:::

Ambassador Dannyl was pacing up and down in his former Guardian´s apartment. He was impatiently awaiting the return of the High Lord. Not that he longed for the other man´s company, actually he still found him to be a bit intimidating, but he needed to talk to the Guildmaster about his return to Elyne and his ambassadorial duties.

Tayend was staying at his family´s house. It would have seemed strange should Dannyl have suggested he find another lodging. This arrangement, however, made it nearly impossible to have moments of privacy, especially after the stir the rumours had caused in the Guild and in the Houses.

Dannyl sighed. Lorlen had done his best to protect him and he thought that most of the magicians had abandoned this subject or at least stopped giving it any credence. He was not convinced, however. Whispers and some awkward stares still seemed to appear whenever he passed larger groups of Magicians or Novices standing together. Rothen had suggested that this might be due to his newfound authority and presence, and the role he had played in capturing those rogue magicians in such a spectacular way.

A pang of guilt made it harder to breathe for a moment. Rothen, his old and loyal mentor – still he could not make himself trust the other man with his secret. What would be an adequate beginning to such a conversation, the Ambassador wondered. He ran through the different versions of how he imagined this might come to pass. None of those ended enjoyable. Dannyl sighed. No, now was not the time to tell his friend – to tell him that he had fallen in love.

Tayend of Tremmelin, scholar and librarian, a quick thinker, brilliant conversationalist and player at the game of politics, a loyal and unwavering companion and skillful lover. Dannyl smiled affectionately. Yes, he did enjoy the other man´s company a lot, not only in bed, but in nearly every aspect.

Very suddenly, second Ambassador to Elyne, Dannyl came to a decision. If he had to wait for the High Lord to return he might as well do so in better company than Rothen´s old furniture and books. He grinned and flung his cloak over his robes.

Fifteen minutes later he arrived at his family´s house. He knocked and was immediately received by an old servant who bowed to him. "Good afternoon, Lord Dannyl, how might I be of service?"

"Good afternoon, Adran. Would you tell our guest to meet me in the Library, please. There is a matter of great importance I wish to discuss with him. The High Lord will be expecting me back in the Guild soon. This is of great urgency."

"The High Lord? Oh, yes, my Lord, I will see to it immediately. May I take your cloak first?"

Dannyl handed his cloak to the servant, who shuffled out of view, and slowly made his way up the stairs into the Library. He was satisfied with himself. Having heard the title of High Lord, Adran would make certain that Tayend and he would not be disturbed. The Ambassador chuckled. Maybe Rothen is right and I have learned some new manoeuvres in Elyne.

The tall magician reached the Library and went inside. Apart from using it as a disguise that they were hard at work, he liked the smell of books because it was closely linked to everything he felt for Tayend. He heard footsteps approaching and quickly hid himself behind a bookshelf.

The door opened and the Elynian man hastily entered and closed it again. He surveyed the room. A small frown creased his forehead when he did not see Dannyl. Slowly he took a few cautious steps into the room and spoke aloud, "Lord Dannyl? You asked me to meet you here in regards to a matter of utmost importance, I was told?"

Dannyl grinned at Tayend´s formal address. They were always careful not to give rise to any speculation concerning their relationship. The old servant might still have been near enough to the door to have heard. While Tayend continued his silent hunt for him, Dannyl admired him from behind his hiding place.

The other man had adopted the more sober colours worn in Kyralia, but still his velvety green breeches were just a hint tighter and they fitted around his buttocks like a glove. The waisted jacket showed off his lean body and the silken shirt´s small golden laces playfully accentuated the Bearer´s smooth skin. His red-blond hair had been tamed and bound back with a ribbon. Some golden strands, however, had loosened themselves and fell softly into his handsome face. Full lips and sparkling green eyes captured his attention immediately. Tayend of Tremmelin was indeed striking in appearance.

Dannyl felt desire stir in him. Frankly, he had come here to be able to taste his lover´s skin again, so why should he delay? As Tayend neared the bookshelf he was hiding behind, he suddenly grabbed the scholar by his arms and clamped a hand over the smaller man´s mouth. His victim began to struggle. Dannyl chuckled and whispered tauntingly into the other man´s ear. "And thus the hunter becomes the prey."

Tayend immediately stopped trying to push him away and leaned against his chest instead. He laughed silently, the movements of his body against Dannyl´s sent shivers of pleasure down the magician´s spine. He released the other man and turned him around. Mirth sparkled in those beautiful green eyes. Tayend raised a questioning eyebrow. "Well, my Lord, what was it you wanted to see me so urgently about?"

Dannyl ran his finger slowly over the full lips of his companion until they parted slightly and he could feel the moist and warm air of Tayend´s breath on them. Another pleasant wave of shivers ran over his skin. He felt his need for the other even more keenly now. His breath had deepened and his heart had begun to race in his chest. "Tayend of Tremmelin, this is indeed a matter of urgent need", he said in a velvety voice which he himself had not known he possessed.

The scholar smiled at him seductively and laid his hand lightly on the magician´s shoulder. The tip of a finger brushed the side of his neck and Dannyl shuddered. "How might I be of assistance then?"

"I have an idea or two. Let me show you." Dannyl leaned forward and brushed his lips ever so lightly over Tayend´s. From there he proceeded to the other man´s throat and back again to his mouth. Meanwhile his hands explored the other man´s skin underneath the garments which they had hastily pushed out of their way. They stood very close. Dannyl could feel the other respond to his taunting. He looked into Tayend´s eyes, searching for and finding the same desire he was sure was reflected in his.

Dannyl pushed Tayend against the bookshelf and kissed him even more demandingly. The scholar made a sudden movement to steady himself, sending books tumbling to the ground. The two lovers did not care. The only thing that mattered now was the feeling of their bodies pulsing with the same urgent need. Tayend loosened the sash of Dannyl´s robes and slid his hand inside. The magician gasped when this hand reached between his legs and started moving to the fast rhythm of their shared heartbeats.

"You know", he whispered a little while later, "that was exactly what I had in mind." Then he fixed Tayend with a predatory stare. "Your turn, my little prey."

When he left the house later that afternoon he found even the impending audience with the High Lord could not take away the light-headed feeling that coursed through his body.

It was so good to be in love.


	3. Meeting t Head of t noble family Delvo

**A/N: So, here we go. You´re finally gonna meet**** 'the dreadful woman'. I am very nervous. Let´s see if I got this new character right. I want her to be dangerous with refined manners ;-) A bit like Hans Gruber from die hard *LOL* **

**Concerning the architecture, it was jaycest´s idea to have it glow with magic. All the cheesy parts are from me ;-) Sorry, guys, I know that the style might be a bit out of period, but I couldn´t resist the temptation of giving them the most ****pretentious houses I could think of.**

**Enjoy, hopefully**

CHAPTER 3

Meeting the Head of the noble family Delvon

Sonea and Akkarin stepped out of the carriage after a servant had opened the door for them. With a mixture of awe and disgust did she take in the grand building that towered over her. The townhouse was old and vast.

It was a three-storey house build from the typical warm sandstone. The stones seemed to pulse with a faint glow from time to time. Like all the houses of the rich families it had been enhanced by magic. Decorative balconies covered the front and the entrance was guarded by two lion statues. The façade was dominated by huge glass windows. Glass was a very valuable construction material as it was very hard to manufacture. Each window shone with brilliant lights and velvety curtains could be seen from outside. The estate was fenced with a metal railing that shone in the afternoon sun. The neighbouring houses stood very close on both sides, but Sonea guessed that the estate reached far behind with a garden and maybe even a small pond with waterlilies or something like that.

Akkarin strode towards the building with an unfathomable expression on his face. Sonea shivered as she recognised the now so familiar signs of strain in his posture. Unconsciously he had straightened to emphasise his height and he had cloaked himself in cold dignity and aloof indifference again. He had offered her his arm and she could feel the tension in his muscles through the fabric of his robes.

When they reached the portal doors Sonea wished she had already graduated. At least she would be a full magician then and would be wearing full-length robes. The brown of her novice´s robes only accentuated the great social and educational difference between her and Akkarin. She heaved a sigh, but when her husband looked at her she nodded encouragingly. Akkarin, of course, was not fooled. His lip curled upward and he gently nudged her in the side with his elbow. This gesture was so unusual that Sonea had to laugh.

Akkarin led her through the door and into the parlour of his family´s home. A servant in a richly embroidered uniform bowed to them. "My Lady Sonea, my Lord Akkarin, welcome. The mistress bids me to show you to the Blue Salon. If you would care to follow me?"

Akkarin nodded shortly giving his assent. The servant bowed again. "This way then, my Lady, my Lord." Sonea found it irritating that they were being guided to a room in the very house Akkarin had grown up in, but she guessed that this was another of the strange customs of the nobles. She did not need to understand it, she decided.

Curiously she studied the interior of the hallway and adjoining corridors. Many exquisitely manufactured pieces of art and craftsmanship lined the wide staircase they now ascended. Portraits of noble-looking people hang on the walls looking down upon them their expressions stern and their gaze unwavering. These were Akkarin´s ancestors. Sonea shuddered. Their footsteps were silenced by a thick blue carpet that covered the whole length of the stairs. This alone must have cost a fortune. Involuntarily Sonea started assessing the worth of some of the displayed riches. An uneasy feeling settled on her when she thought about what just a little part of those would mean to a family in the slums. Stop this, she instructed herself. This does not help. You will only make yourself feel even more miserable – and guilty.

Finally they reached the top of the staircase. Another hallway opened before them. Small statues of dancing couples and bouquets of flowers gave it a perfectly-planned playful atmosphere. Sonea had to admit that this arrangement was a sign of an imaginative and considerate mind, disgustingly artifical, but artful nevertheless. She suddenly stopped when her eyes fell upon a small tableau that adorned a beautifully crafted sideboard. Hastily she stepped closer. Akkarin turned and looked at her questioningly. Then he saw what had caught her attention and he signed to the servant to wait.

Akkarin lightly laid his left hand on her shoulder and drew her nearer. "That is the beach where I learned to swim. See here? That is my family´s country home. My father used to go hunting there." His finger pointed at a tall, dark-haired man in the middle of the painting. His father´s expression was stern and commanding. Even though he had the typical Kyralian dark hair and fair skin, his features did not resemble Akkarin´s much. There was a certain similarity to his nose, but that was maybe just imagination. Next to the Head of family Delvon stood his children, two sons and one daughter. Though curiosity about Akkarin´s siblings stirred in her, Sonea´s eyes were fixed on the eldest child. Dark intelligent eyes looked out of a handsome face that wore a secretive smile that somehow gave the impression of an older soul residing in this young body. The boy´s long hair fell freely to his shoulders. The artist had captured the sun sparkling off the glossy waves. The boy stood straight, his hands on his hips daring the observer to do anything but smile at him. Sonea looked up at the older version of this boy and smiled. She ran her hands over Akkarin´s face, leaned in and whispered, "You really haven´t changed that much, you know."

The High Lord chuckled. "Either you are flattering me or you are telling me that I looked old even then." Sonea was about to answer with a little jest when Akkarin´s expression suddenly turned somber. He sighed, lines of worry and grief showing around his eyes. "I was so carefree and naive then. Everything was still as it was supposed to be." He snorted disgustedly. "I do not like to see me like that. It reminds me too much of what is lost. I am but a shadow of what I was then."

It pained her to hear him talking like that. She had not meant to hurt him. How could he speak about himself like this? He was still the most loveable and caring man she knew and she loved him with all her heart. Was he oblivious to the effect he had on others? No, she knew that he often toyed with this.

"I do not understand, Akkarin − shadow of what you were?"

"Ah, I apologise. I was just thinking aloud. Forget it, won´t you? See, Alia was only five when mother had that picture painted. She is so lovely. I miss her very much. She was always so friendly and easy-going." Akkarin sighed and Sonea tightened her grip on his arm. Alia had died at eight from an illness that not even the Healers had been able to cure.

"Aril was eight years old. That look on his face, I think I remember that he had lost his favourite wooden sword that day. He was devastated." Akkarin´s eyes flickered back to his own image once again. "I was ten. Riding and swimming were my favourite activities then. It was two years later that a friend of the family, Lord Riatin, tested Aril and me. He found that I had very strong latent powers, whereas Aril had none at all. My father was displeased. As eldest I was meant to take over from him. However, Lord Riatin was afraid that my powers might surface on their own. He convinced my parents to let me enter the Guild at fifteen. Aril had to take over my duties as heir and I cannot say that I envy him."

The servant shuffled a few steps nearer coughing politely. Akkarin turned towards him. "Well, we should not keep my mother waiting. Come along, Sonea."

The High Lord guided her away from the painting. Sonea found that her thoughts still lingered on their short conversation when the servant opened a door and bowed them inside. "My Lady, my Lord, if you would please take a seat. Refreshments are to be found on the table to your right. Is there any way I might be of further service?"

"Thank you, Rijand. Please tell the Lady that we have arrived."

"Immediately, my Lord." A soft click told Sonea that the old man had left silently to hurry to his mistress.

She took some steps into the room and gasped. Everything was decorated in blue and gold, ornate chandeliers and some magically lighted globe lamps illuminated the grandeur of this room. An assembly of luxurious armchairs sat before a blazing fire. A small table was laden with fruits and sweets. Another carried a selection of exquisite wine bottles and crystalline glasses.

Sonea turned around and faced her husband, a helpless expression on her face. Akkarin smiled and pointed at the group of chairs. "Sit down, please." Sonea obeyed hesitantly.

From that perspective she became aware of an immense genealogical chart that covered the wall opposite of her. The crest of family Delvon crowned the impressive tree of noble names. Sonea narrowed her eyes and asked her husband in a cold voice, "Does your mother usually receive her guests in this room?"

Akkarin looked at her surprised. "No, she does not. I would not have thought you would notice this."

His wife snorted. "If her intention was to make me feel as unwelcome as possible she has succeeded."

"How so?"

"Look around you. This room suffocates from all the reminders of just who you are. This chart over there, the carpets and the little crests imprinted on the wallpaper. Everything here is blue and gold like your house colours. Really, she should have added a sign that says 'We are rich and influential' just in case anyone missed the point."

Annoyance crept into Akkarin´s gaze. "Sonea, I think you are misunderstanding this. As I have said before, my status within the family is not yet decided. She could not receive us in her private rooms. This is the room for formal meetings. Her choice does not surprise me."

Sonea nodded. She was not in the mood to argue with him and she had promised to trust him in this.

"Thank you." Akkarin leaned forward and took her hand into his. They smiled at each other, their eyes locked. Unconsciously Akkarin drifted slowly towards her. Their lips nearly touched when the door was opened again. The High Lord pulled back hastily and released Sonea´s hand. They both rose from their chairs and turned to the door.

Daidra of family Delvon, Head of House Velan, exuded a commanding presence. Though she was of average height and slim, willowy build she seemed to stand very tall. Intelligent, sharp eyes in the colour of black opals dominated a beautiful Kyralian face. She had very fair skin and lustrous black hair with a few grey streaks that was pinned up into an elaborate headdress. Her wide mouth and high cheekbones immediately reminded of her eldest son. She moved in an unhurried, regal way. Her beautiful silk dress cascaded from her narrow waist in waves of a deep royal blue. A collar of sapphires and diamonds lay against her throat. A great signil ring adorned her ring finger. Her voice was clear and strong when she spoke in a warm soprano.

"Akkarin, welcome to my house."

Her son stepped forward and bowed. "Thank you, Daidra. I am honoured to be made welcome in this house."

His mother looked satisfied at this formal greeting. She gracefully accepted his offered hand.

Sonea sighed inwardly. They were really doing this, weren't they? Acting like strangers when they were in truth mother and son.

The High Lord led his mother to Sonea who bowed and forced herself to smile demurely.

"Daidra, this is my wife, Sonea." For the first time, their gazes met and Sonea found that she had difficulties holding it. Akkarin´s mother stepped towards her and smiled – a smile, Sonea noticed, that did not reach her eyes.

"Sonea, welcome to my house."

"Thank you, Lady Daidra. I am honoured to be made welcome in this house", she repeated the formal greeting. Daidra of Delvon inclined her head her sapphire earrings sparkling in the light of the numerous candles.

With an elegant unfurling of her wrist she made them sit down again. "Please be seated. Feel free to select from these sweets and fruits. I have had them imported from Elyne. They are said to be the most savoury of their kind. I´d be delighted to hear your opinions about them. Might I offer some wine?"

Akkarin chuckled and narrowed his eyes at his mother in mock outrage. "You know I will be tempted, Daidra."

His mother laughed affectionately. "It will be a glass of Anuren Dark then?"

"You know me far too well, I think", the High Lord replied gallantly. They laughed together.

The ball of ice returned to Sonea´s stomach. She could not understand what those two were playing at. If this woman had not been his mother, Sonea would have said Akkarin flirted with her. However, he had not once touched her in an intimate gesture or addressed her by anything else than her name. Daidra on the other hand showed off how close they were, but did not acknowledge their true relationship either. That was exasperating. She would have liked to shout at them and tell them that they should stop behaving like two well-dressed idiots. That, however, was not possible, of course.

"Sonea, dear?" Daidra lifted a questioning eyebrow in a way that reminded her so much of Akkarin that she had to swallow twice before she could shake her head. "Thank you, Lady Daidra, I do not want to drink any wine. Thank you for the gracious offer."

The other woman´s gaze dropped to her belly and she gave Sonea a speculative glance that could have been called insulting had it lingered a moment longer. Akkarin´s mother smiled nonchalantly. "Of course, dear, of course. Will it be water instead?"

Without waiting for her reply Daidra swirled around and glided to another table. She poured a crystalline glass of water and handed it to Sonea with a benign smile that only just managed not to be condescending. Then she settled into the chair opposite them and sipped on her wine – she had chosen Anuren Dark, too.

"May I compliment you on your new dress, Daidra? It truly becomes you very well. You look sublime."

"Why, Akkarin, you flatter me. This is indeed a new gown I had ordered from my tailor only last week. Can you imagine that the Vindos have once again raised the price of their silks in the last few months. Greedy folk. The quality of their silk is the best and they know this quite well." She sighed and fingered the brilliantly blue waves that spread around her like a cascade of spring water. "Nothing compares to the smooth weaving of Vindo silks, wouldn´t you agree, Sonea?"

Daidra looked at her with widely opened eyes and a companionable smile. It was clear that she expected Sonea to be included in this conversation. She was about to comply and murmur something about how she understood Daidra´s annoyance when she realised that this was a trap. Her eyes locked with those of the other woman and she was sure that a hint of cold amusement showed in them. The noblewoman´s mouth twitched slightly at the corner. No doubt she was proud of how she had played the stupid slum girl, Sonea thought bitterly. However, Daidra of House Delvon was not finished.

"Sonea, dear?"

"I am sorry, Lady Daidra. I would not know of this. I have never worn Vindo silks myself."

The noblewoman´s hand flew to her mouth in feigned shock. "Oh, but forgive me, Sonea dear, how inconsiderate of me. Of course you would not have come across these in the slums, now, would you?" She looked at her son apologetically and battered her eyelashes in fake embarrassment. "Oh, Akkarin, forgive me. Here I go boring you two with womanish talk of clothes."

Akkarin held up his hand. "Not at all, Daidra, not at all."

What? Sonea very nearly blurted. Not at all? _This woman has just managed to insult me and that´s all you have to say?_ Stop, she reprimanded herself. That is exactly what she intends. She wants you to loose your nerves in front of him. Simmering with silent fury Sonea kept on smiling and sipped on her water. Then she nibbled one of the sweets exaggerating the process of slowly devouring it in blissful peace. When she had finished she exclaimed, "Lady Daidra, you were right indeed. These sweets are delicious. How ever did you come by them? They are from Elyne you said?" _There, I can make pleasant conversation, as well._

"How delightful to hear that the sweets are to your satisfaction, Sonea. Yes, I had them imported from Elyne. My family maintains strong connections with some of the merchant families there. These are from the Siriands."

"They are indeed the most talented chocolatiers in Elyne." Akkarin explained to Sonea. "I loved their chocolates. We used to visit there in summer."

Daidra chuckled. "I remember your wide-eyed astonishment when you first entered their shop. You truly were a lovely boy. All those ladies fell in love with you immediately and besieged you with sweets. He´s always been a favourite of the Ladies, you know." The Head of House Velan winked at Sonea knowingly. Sonea stiffened slightly which was not missed by her husband.

Akkarin lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. "There is only one Lady I seek to impress these days, Daidra." His dark gaze met Sonea´s and suddenly his mother seemed to cease existing – at least for a short while.

"And under the light of the stars I will find thee and hold thee, thine white hand will I claim and make you mine forever", Akkarin´s mother quoted from the work of a famous Kyralian poet, her flawless voice lending it a warm and subtle quality.

The High Lord did not move his intent gaze away from his wife´s face when he continued in a low and musical voice, "And under the light of the moon I will keep thee and praise thee, thine red lips will I claim and make you mine forever." He smiled at her and the look of sincere love in his capturing, dark eyes made her heart beat faster.

—_I love you, Sonea_, he sent through their linked hands.

—_I love you, too_, she answered truthfully. Sonea could have sworn that he was about to kiss her when Daidra of Delvon heaved a loud sigh.

"I remember how it was when my husband was still alive. He used to read poetry to me in that same deep, melodious voice that you now possess, Akkarin. You remind me of him so much."

True pain emenated from the noblewoman´s voice and Sonea found herself wondering if maybe her first impression of the Head of House Velan had been wrong. Akkarin tore his gaze away from hers and walked over to his mother. He sat down in a chair next to her and took hold of her hand. When they looked at each other the High Lord´s expression grew serious and at the same time a silent challenge could be read in the defiant set of his mouth.

"I miss him, too, Mother."

Daidra stiffened visibly at this intimate address, but she did not withdraw her hand. Silently mother and son regarded each other. For an unbearable long time they remained locked in this quiet struggle. Sonea watched fascinated. Now that her husband and his mother sat facing each other, the similarity between them was unmistakable. The same elegant hands, the same expressive eyebrows, the same dark eyes and generous mouths, the same fair and smooth skin, the same unwavering stares. They looked like two exquisite marble statues condemned to eternal fighting. Then again, she sensed that both Delvons craved for each other´s understanding and acceptance. In spite of their foolish formal behaviour, Sonea recognised true affection in their desperate game.

She came to a decision. She might not like Daidra, but she would try to regain the woman´s approval for Akkarin´s sake.

Finally Daidra smiled thinly and withdrew her hand. "Akkarin, I think we have urgent matters to discuss. Sonea, my dear, I would not want to bore or distress you with politics. Akkarin, would you please go down and inform the driver that the Lady will leave. You may use my carriage later."

The dismissal in her words could not have been more explicit. Akkarin´s expression turned to one of alarmed caution and he hesitatingly got up. When he made to move towards her, Sonea smiled at him shortly then turned to the noblewoman.

"I thank you, my Lady, for your kind and generous hospitality. If I might be excused?" She rose from her chair and stepped towards her husband.

"Of course, my dear, but, please, be welcome to wait here until the carriage has arrived. The parlour is much less comfortable, would you not agree?"

A sinking feeling in her stomach Sonea nodded smiling politely and stepped back from Akkarin´s side, the distance between them acutely tangible. Daidra raised a stern eyebrow. "Well, Akkarin, will you let your wife wait any longer?"

The black-robed man bowed to them both. "Of course not. Sonea, I will fetch you when the carriage has arrived."

"Thank you, Akkarin." Sonea smile faltered a bit when the High Lord turned and strode out of the room. When she turned around again, she found that his mother was staring at her with unconcealed hatred.

"How far along are you?" Daidra of Delvon asked.

"Excuse me, my Lady?"

"Answer my question, girl." So, no pretending anymore? Fine.

"I don´t have the slightest idea what you are talking about, my Lady." Sonea emphasised the title just a little bit mockingly.

Daidra swept over and slapped her in the face. She was surprisingly strong for a woman. "Don´t you dare be cheeky with me, slum girl. Now answer my question."

Sonea was completely dumbstruck. She had not expected that. In spite of the raging urge to snap back and teach this dreadful woman a lesson, she forced herself to remain polite. She would not give Daidra the satisfaction of disgracing herself in front of her. That would be perfect for the noblewoman, telling all her noble, arrogant, gossipy friends how the dirty slum dweller had lost her countenance.

"I am not with child, Daidra." she said simply.

The other woman´s eyes narrowed. She assessed Sonea speculatively then nodded. "I see. Good, that will make it easier to annulate this ridiculous marriage."

Sonea tensed. "Annulate the marriage?" she gasped. The Head of House Velan spun around and stared at her with such revulsion and hatred that she involuntarily took a step back. Then she reminded herself that she was a very strong magician and that she was married to one of the most powerful men in the country. She straightened and tilted her head so that her gaze was level with that of her mother-in-law.

"I will not leave him, Daidra, and I will not give my assent to an annulment of our marriage." And then she added in a strong and emotional voice. "I love him."

"I expected you to, my dear. Akkarin never had much difficulty to inspire this feeling in womens´ hearts. Did you think you were the first to confess your love for him to me?" Akkarin´s mother snorted disgustedly. "No matter, your feelings are of no consequence to me. I am the Head of my House and family and my sole concern is the welfare of the members of this family. You are an irksome inconvenience, but this will be settled as everything else."

Sonea smiled at the other woman. "We´ll see, my Lady."

Daidra fixed her with a strange expression on her face. "I have to confess you are cleverer than I would have expected and somehow you really seem to have gotten my son besotted with you. Congratulations." Her tone was very cold.

"Thank you, Daidra", Sonea replied in the same icy tone. Both women stared at each other. The High Lord´s mother was the first to break the silence.

"I expect that my son has told you about the importance of my –eh – continued courtesy towards him?"

"Yes, he has. Also, I think he truly loves you, my Lady."

Surprise at this admission flitted across Daidra´s features before her arrogant mask settled over them again. She mockingly inclined her head and accepted Sonea´s gesture.

"Indeed, he does. So, if you want your husband to stay in my favour I suggest that you comply with what I tell you now."

Sonea simply nodded.

"I will have to think about how to deal with you, girl. In the meantime you will make certain that you won´t get pregnant, understood? I know that there are ways magicians can prevent it." She looked disgusted once again, certainly at the thought that her beloved son bedded a dirty slum dweller like herself, Sonea thought grimly.

"You will be expected to visit me regularly from now on, so that I might give you new instructions. Should you consider telling my son about this, I advise you to reassess. You might be ignorant to politics, but he is not. Ask him how important my favour is, if you doubt that my threat carries any weight." Daidra of House Delvon laughed mirthlessly. She stepped very close and roughly pulled up Sonea´s face to hers so that her dark, merciless eyes bored into the magician´s.

"I will not let you destroy my son or my family", she whispered menacingly.

Right then both women heard quick footsteps approaching. The door opened and Akkarin strode into the room. Daidra released her hold on Sonea´s chin and hugged her, a false smile playing around her lips.

"Well", she said in a sickeningly sweet voice, "as I said, I will expect to see you again on your next Freeday, my dear."

Sonea locked eyes with the other woman then bowed her head. "That is an invitation I simply cannot decline, Lady Daidra."

"Akkarin, has the carriage been readied for your wife?"

"Yes, come along, Sonea. I´ll show you to it."

Akkarin laid his arm around her shoulder and after another bow to the Head of House Velan, Sonea was finally released from her presence. She kept up appearance for her husband´s sake. Silently they descended the stairs and left through the huge doors. The High Lord offered his hand and helped her inside the carriage. He smiled quickly.

"I´ll see you at dinner, Sonea."

As soon as the door of the carriage closed she hugged herself and cried from sheer fury and frustration. How she hated his mother. That this person dared to treat her like this.

However, even then she knew that she would not tell Akkarin about what had happened until she knew that it would be safe.


	4. Saying Goodbye

**A/N: Hey there, here you go, ****chapter 4. It is a very short one. Don´t feel let down. It´s only, before the plot thickens I have to put all pieces on the chess board…also I thought the title fits, cause I am off to Paris! *once again doing a happy dance* **

**And believe it or not, my boyfriend thought it was a good idea to have my entire time for himself after finding me at my pc nearly all the time these last days…I am not going to tell him that I have packed my laptop /portable pc (whatever it´s called) *evil laugh***

**And please don´t be angry with me for not having thanked you all personally for your great reviews. The week before leaving work always increases tenfold…please, forgive me? *doing the puss in boots* (Shrek) **

**Moon Myst is awesome, did I mention that before? ;-) I´ll try to find an internet café in Paris, maybe we´ll have access in our hotel…feel free to review and pm and ask…**

CHAPTER 4

Saying Goodbye

Cery stared at the naked woman lying next to him. Her eyes were half closed and a thin layer of sweat covered the skin of her voluptuous curves.

The Thief sighed and ran a hand over Savara´s back. Her eyes fluttered open and she shot him one of her most alluring glances. Then she rolled over and kissed him full on his lips. "Hmmm", she teased, "I will miss this, my little Thief." Regret showed on her beautiful face. Cery sighed again then untangled himself from her embrace and sat up in bed.

"So, that´s it? You will leave?"

"Yes, I will have to return to my people and see what I can do in order to help your High Lord."

"You know, I truly think I should resent him for this. He´s taken away both women I ever cared about, now."

Savara chuckled, pleased, and planted another kiss on Cery´s shoulder. "Oh Cery, it is in your own interest to establish friendly connections between Kyralia and Sachaka."

Cery nodded. "Of course it is, but I do not feel like admitting this right now." They laughed together – an effortless, easy laughter. "Sometimes I wonder why I feel so good in your company, when I cannot really trust you at the same time."

The Sachakan magician contemplated this then said, "I guess the love-making might be a contributing factor."

"Savara, you are outrageous, you know? I am trying to have a serious conversation here."

"Ah, but if I did respond in kind you´d be disappointed, would you not? So I guess it is that which makes you comfortable, that you can trust me not to trust you and still like you enough to share laughter and passion and my knowledge. I am not meant for you, Ceryni, as you are not meant for me. So, this alliance is of a fleeting nature. That is intriguing and enticing. You have the whole fun without any obligations."

"You are scary, Savara. In more than one way – not that I mind. Actually I find that quite appealing."

"I know." The beautiful woman yawned and stretched. Then she slid off the bed and slowly dressed.

Cery stood up, too and hastily pulled on his breeches and a linen shirt. They faced each other, a knowing smile playing around their lips, a hint of regret in their eyes, determination in their postures.

"Cery, it was an honour to make your acquaintance", the Sachakan woman said very simply.

"It was an honour to make yours, Savara. Thank you for what you have done for Sonea and Akkarin and Kyralia − and thank you again for saving me in the palace. I know that this put you in great danger."

Savara smiled at him and bowed her head in mock formality. "I did not regret it, Ceryni."

"Shall I see you out of the City?" Cery asked hopefully.

The Sachakan shook her head. "No, I will leave on my own. I do not think we will ever meet again, but who knows? Fare you well, my little Thief, take care of yourself."

For the last time she placed her full and warm lips on his, then she swept out of the room and was gone.

Cery remained standing there frozen to the spot. Then he shrugged off the paralysing feeling of loneliness and forced himself to move. When he entered the main room there was no sign of the Sachakan woman. Her scent, however, still lingered in the air.

Taking a deep breath Cery left his house and went to go about this day´s business.

_It´s not as if I loved her, is it?_

:::::::::

Dannyl had resumed his pacing in Rothen´s rooms when he finally saw the carriage of the High Lord moving through the big gates. He sighed and made his way down planning to intercept Akkarin.

When he reached the carriage, however, it was only Sonea who sprang out of it and stormed into the Residence without looking left or right. After waiting for another three shocked seconds, the Alchemist realised that his quarry was not going to appear and turned away. He had gone a few steps when a mental call reached him.

−_Dannyl!_

−_Akkarin?_

−_Our meeting must wait until tomorrow. I have been delayed. Please visit me after breakfast at my residence._

−_Of course, High Lord__._

−_Good evening to you, Ambassador._

−_Good evening, High Lord._

After that Akkarin´s presence faded away. Dannyl heaved a sigh and he was not sure whether it was one of relief for not having to face the High Lord just now or an unacknowledged disappointment at not having come any closer to his aim to be sent back to Elyne. He was about to go back to his own quarters when he remembered the expression on Sonea´s face. Come now, this is Sonea, even if she is married to the High Lord, she is still your friend. You are not intimidated by her, are you?

Ambassador Dannyl grinned at his own thoughts and walked towards the grey building. He knocked at the door. A short while later the door opened and the High Lord´s servant, Takan, looked up at him politely.

"Ambassador Dannyl, good to see you. The High Lord is not present, I fear."

"Good to see you, too, Takan. Eh, actually I was looking for Sonea?"

Concern shadowed the dark-skinned man´s face. He hesitated before announcing in a measured voice. "I am sorry, my Lord. The Lady is not receiving visitors this evening. May I convey a message for you?" A strong soul and quick intellect hid behind those dark eyes, Dannyl realised for the first time. Up until now he had only ever caught glimpses of the servant.

"No, thank you, Takan. On second thought, just tell her that I came calling, won´t you?"

"Of course, my Lord." The servant bowed and shut the door firmly in his face.

_This is getting more and more interesting,_ Dannyl mused. _I´ll tell Rothen about this. We´ll see what he makes out of it._


	5. Friends in need

**A/N:**** You are such a nice bunch, I simply had to try to update even from here. So, here you go. Ah, I hope you like this one. I really do, because you can see how important those two are for each other still…who? Well, read! **

**Here is chapter 5, from Paris with Love**

**PS: MoonMyst beta-ed again, thankssssssss **

CHAPTER 5

Friends in need

Sonea barely registered that Takan was talking to her. Absentmindedly she nodded at his murmuring, not listening at all. Suddenly she realised that she was nodding to thin air. The Sachakan man had left. Finally she was alone. A detached part of her mind noticed that she was shaking with fury, her fists were clenched, her heart beat faster than before and her breathing had become quick and shallow._ I´m breathing too fast, I will pass out if I do not get a hold on myself now._

She deliberately forced herself to deepen her breath and relax parts of her body. It cost her an immense effort to do so. Thoughts kept going wild in her head, bombarding her with suggestions and commands about what to do to Akkarin´s mother.

_Silence_, she pleaded, _silence_. Silence would not come.

Sonea screamed with frustration and decided to have a walk in the cold air to regain control of her muddled feelings. She splashed some cool water into her face to hide the signs of tears and went down to the guestroom of the residence.

Takan looked up from dusting the bookshelves when she entered. He bowed to her. "My Lady, are you feeling better?"

"Actually no, Takan, but thank you for asking. I am going to get some fresh air. Inform my husband should he return in the next hour."

"Excuse me, my Lady, but is it wise to go out alone? It is already getting dark. Lord Dannyl came to call as I told you before. Would you not consider asking −"

"Takan, no matter what my husband wants you to believe, I am quite capable of looking after myself." Sonea said sternly. It was endearing how Akkarin´s servant had adopted her into their little secret fellowship, but his overprotectiveness was irritating at times.

"Yes, mistress", the dark-skinned man bowed deeply his gaze averted on the floor. Sonea sighed. She began to understand how her husband felt whenever Takan chose to be the subservient slave.

Now, however, was not the moment to think about Takan´s behaviour. She simply let it pass and left the Residence.

A cold and steady wind whipped her brown robes against her legs as she made her way through the labyrinthine hedges of the magicians´garden. The branches of the trees creaked as the wind bent them to its will. Her footsteps were muffled by the soft undergrowth. Sonea let the air tear at her hair and clothes. It felt wonderful to be part of this raging element. The cool breeze seemed to clear her aching head.

She needed to be composed when Akkarin returned. He would want to talk to her about their meeting with his mother and she would have to be convincing then – not an easy feat considering it was the Guild´s most talented mindreader she would be attempting to lie to.

Sonea neared the middle of the labyrinth when she spotted a patch of green under the protection of the roof of the little pavilion at the centre of the garden. She was about to turn around to avoid company when she saw the figure detaching itself from the small building long enough to recognise who was beckoning to her.

She walked over and stepped out of the wind. The silence that greeted her was as beneficial as the rough voice of the wind had been before. She smiled and hugged the Healer who was standing in front of a bench at the right side of the pavilion.

"Dorrien, it is so good to see you." She felt Rothen´s son stiffen slightly and released him again. "What is it, Dorrien?"

His icy-blue eyes were fixed on her face, but he silently shook his head and pointed to the bench. He took hold of her hand and led her to it. When they had settled down he suddenly leaned his head against her shoulder and started crying. Sonea protectively held him close to her and stroked his damp hair. For some minutes Dorrien cried into her shoulder, his whole body spasmed with each heart-rending sob.

Sonea tightened her arms around him and planted a kiss on his head. She waited. Neither of them said a word until finally Dorrien´s sobs subsided and he calmed a little. He lifted his tear-streaked face and looked at her with an apologetic expression. Before he could say anything Sonea gently wiped away the last of the tears and then held his hands in hers, her gaze unwavering. They looked at each other for a while, simply cherishing the trust and feeling of security in their relationship.

"You gonna tell me what rub you have managed to get yourself into again?" Sonea asked, slurring her voice in the way slum-dwellers did. Dorrien always found that funny and even now his mouth twitched slightly. "I have seen that, my friend", she told him smiling mischievously. Then she sobered again. "Honestly, Dorrien, what is bothering you?"

The Healer´s eyes filled with tears again then he answered in a low and hoarse voice. "I…I have lost a patient. A…a young girl. She…she had been overrun by a carriage. Internal bleeding, the organs were ruptured. She…she was in so much pain…and I…I –" His voice would not carry on, he turned a sickly green and swallowed several times. When he continued it was barely more than a whisper. "I had to decide to let her die without pain."

Dorrien suddenly sprang up and beat his hand against the hard wood of the pavilion. His knuckles soon started bleeding. Alarmed, Sonea grabbed his arms from behind and tried to send Healing energy to the torn skin. They struggled for a while then the Healer managed to push her back. He spun around and shouted at her at the top of his lungs. "This is nothing!" He held out his hands. "Nothing. So stop mothering me."

Sonea gasped. Mothering him? Now, that was exactly the right thing to say to make her snap. She felt all the anger and humiliation creeping back into her body and she could feel the sting of the slap on her face again.

In a dangerously soft and controlled voice, she addressed her friend again. "Mothering you, am I? Well, I will immediately stop doing so, Dorrien. Please go ahead and beat your hands to pulp. And while you are at it stop whining and at least try to act like a professional Healer."

Shock and hurt replaced the anger that had not even been directed at her and Dorrien gasped. He looked at her as if suddenly seeing a stranger and backed away. Sonea immediately regretted that she had let her anger get the better of her. "Dorrien, I am sorry. Dorrien!"

But Rothen´s son turned around and stormed into the darkness.

"Dorrien! Wait, please…I, I´m sorry…I."

Now it was her time to sink down onto the bench and cry.

_Great, just great__. Well done, Sonea. He is your best friend and in the course of a few weeks you have turned him down as a man and told him he is not worthy of his own profession. A profession he dedicates his entire life to. _

Sonea remained sitting there in misery. How she hated that woman for having brought her on edge so that she had hurt him. _Ah, but it was you who spoke those words, you who knew what would hurt him most._ She shuddered at her own merciless thoughts, but she knew she was right. Daidra´s treatment of her did not excuse her treatment of Dorrien.

She began to sob even harder. She could not even tell Akkarin about this. Just like all the time she had known his dark secret and had not been allowed to talk to Rothen or Lorlen, she would have to cope with this on her own. She felt miserably alone.

Warm hands circled her shoulders and before she could react she was pulled into a tight embrace. Without thinking Sonea leaned in and let herself be gently rocked from side to side, the soothing sway of this motion calming her. When her tears subsided she sniffed her nose and looked up. Two icy-blue eyes held her gaze. The anger and the hurt were gone. Only an unasked question remained.

Tears welled up again, and interrupted by new sobs Sonea tried to explain. "I…I am so sorry, oh Dorrien…" She hugged him close until she felt calm enough to continue. "I do not want to make excuses for what I have done, but maybe…maybe you can let me explain?"

Dorrien nodded and even managed a small smile.

"Akkarin and I went to visit his family today." Dorrien stiffened slightly at the name, but he did not remove his arms from around her. "My mother-in-law does not agree with her son´s choice of a wife."

The Healer´s chest vibrated and she heard a silent chuckle. "Yes, Daidra of Delvon is quite a force to reckon with." He wiped away her tears, his fingers lingering only a moment longer than would have been necessary. "Did she give you a rough time then?"

Sonea rolled her eyes. "Yes, let´s just say our acquaintance was of a mutual – discontentment."

They laughed together and Sonea felt her heart lighten at this. Being with Dorrien was always making her feel better and stronger. She told him so. A sad expression settled on his features and he withdrew his arms from around her. Then he smiled valiantly. "That´s good to hear, Sonea."

She flinched at his tone, but tried to hide it. Instead she took his hands in hers and looked at him questioningly. "May I?"

Dorrien looked down at his hands and it was clear from his expression that he had completely forgotten about his bruised knuckles. "Oh, alright. Here, let me show you how to heal this without leaving any sign of scars on the tissue."

They sat there in silence, their eyes closed and their hands linked. A small smile played around Sonea´s lips as Dorrien plunged into a lengthy explanation of how skin was different from other organs. That was the Dorrien she knew so well. He felt her reaction and smiled in return without interrupting his lecture.

So it was that the High Lord happened upon two conspiratorially grinning friends when he found them in the gardens some minutes later. His footsteps could be heard when he reached the wooden surface of the pavilion and Sonea and Dorrien immediately drew apart and looked up.

"Akkarin", she cried, and flung herself into his arms. The High Lord chuckled and gave her a quick kiss.

"High Lord", Dorrien bowed.

The black-robed man inclined his head and smiled. "Dorrien. Well, shall we go? It´s bound to become rather uncomfortable out here in a while."

The Healer and the novice nodded and the three magicians headed back towards the warmth of the buildings. In front of the High Lord´s residence they parted.

Sonea hugged Rothen´s son again and whispered, "You are a great Healer, Dorrien. In many ways."

Dorrien smiled amused and whispered back, "Thank you, Sonea, but stop flattering me in front of your husband, won´t you."

"Oi, you", she shouted and tried to kick him, but he was already striding away laughing to himself.

When she heard a low chuckle from behind her she whirled around and fixed her husband with a displeased stare. She stepped very close. "So, you find that amusing, do you?" she challenged.

He raised an eyebrow and looked at her contemplatively. Then he nodded. "Actually, yes, I do."

She narrowed her eyes even further. "Is that so? Hmmmm..." She pushed him towards the door. When they were inside the residence she silently walked over to the stairs on the left. Akkarin remained standing in the guestroom, his lips twitching at the corner. Sonea was nearly out of view when she turned and frowned at him. "Well, are you coming?"

"Coming, my dear?"

She nodded regally. "Yes, I have decided to offer you the opportunity to assuage my hurt pride. This gracious invitation will not be repeated again."

Her husband´s smile broadened and he feigned a look of deep concern. "If it is that serious I should deliver myself at your mercy now rather than dread your wrath later. So tell me, how may I assuage your hurt pride, my Lady?" His voice had dropped to a husky whisper and his eyes had a predatory gleam to them.

"Ah," Sonea mused toying with the sash of her robes, "I think you will find an answer to that if you simply follow me."

The High Lord shrugged out of his coat and threw it onto one of the armchairs. A few strides later he stood face to face with her and Sonea´s heartbeat accelerated when he ran his hand slowly down her neck and traced the outline of her robes where they parted in front. He halted when his fingers brushed the swells of her breasts. He cocked his head looking at her and repeated the gesture a few times. Sonea knew that he was deliberately trying to make her blush. Still she could not help it.

Akkarin leaned forward, his dark eyes holding hers. "Maybe you are going to tell me now what you were thinking about in the carriage this afternoon?"

Not trusting her voice she simply nodded and pressed her lips to his. She was swept off her feet and carried to the end of the corridor. When she felt the soft surface of the mattress under her back she heard him murmuring into her ear.

"I am at your service, my Lady."


	6. Lies and Disillusionment

**A/N: Here is chapter 6. It was the most challenging one so far, because tatatatatataa, you will see Regin introduced as first-person-singular *gasp* I rewrote it about 100 times… Please tell me h****ow you like me portray of Sonea´s old nemesis. Is he boring or nicely twisted or just a poor bastard? What do you think of him? **

CHAPTER 6

Lies and disillusionment

Regin of Winar, House Paren felt unusually nervous at the prospect of being home with his mother and father. He and his guardian had been invited to a formal dinner – an occasion he would have looked forward to under normal circumstances. This time was different though.

His much older brother, Sirian, heir-to-be and successful politician and merchant was visiting with his heavily pregnant wife. Regin knew well enough that both his parents would be giving all their attention to their eldest son. They would inquire after his latest achievements and normally that one question would suffice for Sirian to start eulogising on himself for the rest of the evening. It was disgusting.

As a small mercy, his sister, Liviana, was still in Elyne to where she had been married off at sixteen. Having her visiting at the same time as Sirian would have been pure torture. Liviana had never forgiven him for his behaviour on the day of her marriage – a marriage that had taken place fifteen years ago.

Though he had only been 4-years-old he remembered this event with dread. He had hated that day. All attention had been fixed on his sister. His mother had fussed about her dress and ring as if those things were deciding about life and death. He, the little blond prince, had been a nuisance then, the annoying younger sibling who was stepping out of line.

He had felt abandoned by a mother who had used to make him the centre of her universe. He had thrown a tantrum and in the end his sister had broken down in tears and shouted at him that she hated him and that she wished that he had never been born. His mother had slapped Liviana and then had started crying, too. Regin had been so frightened by his mother´s outburst that he had started wailing along with her. He had only calmed down when his mother had given him his favourite sweets and promised to read to him from one of the Knights´ tales that he so loved.

With the unbending single-mindedness of a child had he demanded his mother´s attention by means of throwing himself on the ground, pounding his little fists on the floor and behaving like a perfect beast. The last straw had been when he had smeared the pearl-white silk his sister was wearing with chocolate while tugging on the folds of her wedding dress. Liviana had been so infuriated that she had insisted on his staying away from the wedding ceremony. His mother had finally lost her nerves and shouted at both of them. The atmosphere had been spoiled after that.

Regin shuddered, remembering that awful day. If he had learned something from his early years it was that nothing came to you for free. Living in the shadows of his brilliant brother and his beautiful sister had taught him other ways to get what he wanted. He was neither as strong or as successful as Sirian nor as beautiful or as witty as Liviana, but he was a clever schemer and talented manipulator. These two virtues had safeguarded him. They had helped him in getting his share of attention. Then something indescribably thrilling had happened.

His uncle had tested him at eleven and he had been the first and only of the children to have magical ability. He had immediately fallen in love with magic and power. Being a magician had become everything to him. That was the field of his choosing, the field in which none of his siblings could ever beat him. He had decided that day that he would become one of the greatest Warriors the Guild ever knew. He would finally get what he deserved, he had sworn to himself. He deserved to get what he wanted, did he not?

The loud bang of a branch that hit the window of his room tore Regin out of his thoughts. He inspected himself for the hundredth time. Everything had to be perfect. Regin had planned something for tonight. He hated being neglected. No, he did not like to stand back, and being outsmarted was even worse. The novice sighed and looked at his immaculate robes. He smirked. Well, this time his brother would have to be ready for a surprise. He, Regin, the unimportant little brother, would be the evening´s main attraction.

It had been him who had been nearly murdered by an Ichani. It had been him who had been rescued by a Thief. It had been him who had tricked the Ichani into drinking the wine laced with poison. Him.

A feeling of satisfied pride swelled in his breast. Then he remembered the exchange he had had with the slum girl that day and his smirk vanished. Sonea, how he hated her.

He hated that she had been admitted into the Guild, at all. He hated that she had turned out to be a natural and unusually strong, stronger than him by far. He hated that she had had a guardian, too. He hated that she had been made the High Lord´s favourite. And then there was that embarrassing defeat he had had to endure in the Arena – in front of the whole Guild. Sirian had laughed about that for weeks after it happened. "Can´t even handle slum sluts, can you. We´ll see how you cope with a real woman then." He hated that she never had lost her nerves and that she had never given in to his taunting.

But most of all he hated that she had been nothing like he had expected her to be, at all. He snorted bitterly. In fact, she had been everything that had been praised in his adventurous Knights´tales – loyal, strong, courageous, unwavering, honest, fierce, enduring, respectful, compassionate...everything he had wanted to be. Like a burning orb had she burst into his secret kingdom.

No, Regin of Winar was not reconciled with the necessity to reassess his view of her. It had been so easy to use her as target for all his frustration and hurt and anger and even just for fun. Since that day with the Thieves though–. It was frustrating. Regin did not like to be frustrated. He smiled again when he realised that he could blame that on Sonea, at least. Damn her for being who she was! There, that felt better.

That day in the classroom that had been about showing off with his knowledge. Ah, how he had cherished the open-mouthed astonishment and shock on her face and that of the others. That stupid look had been worth the friendliness.

_You´re lying, Reg. You could have told them what you saw between her and the High Lord before they got married. Could have started rumours that might have changed the re-election if planted into the right ears at the right time. You didn´t. You did not tell anyone._

"Stop", Regin hit his pillow. That was not what was important tonight. The only thing that mattered was the glorious moment when his parents would turn away from his brother and listen to his story. His, finally.

A knock on his door interrupted these thoughts. He willed the door to open. His guardian stood outside and beckoned to him. "Good evening, Regin. Come, we must leave."

Regin bowed. Outside it was already dark and a strong wind was blowing. No matter the weather outside, Regin meant this to be the evening of evenings.

"I am coming, uncle."

Her fast breathing slowly abated. With a satisfied sigh she burrowed her face into the side of Akkarin´s neck, inhaling his scent and feeling the warmth of his body. She wrapped her legs and arms around him and squeezed in possessive bliss.

His eyes fluttered open and he grinned at her. "Is this an attempt to strangle me or are you afraid I might leave?"

"Mhmm." She pulled herself fully on top of him and looked him into the eyes. An adoring smile lit up her face. "No chance of that, High Lord." She wriggled her right hand in front of his face. Tiny sparks of light reflected from her ring. "You´re mine."

His hands brushed up the length of her thighs, over her buttocks and came to rest on her back. They pressed her down so that her lips met his. "That I am."

Satisfied with this answer, she laid her head on his chest and listened to his strong heartbeat. Her husband absently stroked her shoulders and hair. After a moment he murmured. "So, what did you think about my mother?"

Sonea flinched, but tried to hide it. "Your mother?" she managed. Her thoughts raced. She must not let him grow suspicious. He knew her far too well. In an attempt to gain time she asked, "What did she tell you after I left?"

The chest under her vibrated. "Actually, that is what I wanted to ask you as well. I know my mother well enough. She intended to talk to you alone when she sent me to fetch the carriage, did she not?"

Sonea snuggled even closer and grunted noncommittally.

"Sonea, this is important. Please, tell me about it."

She sighed and rolled off him. Then she struggled into the outer parts of her robes and sat with her back against the wall at one side of the bed. Akkarin changed his position slightly so that he was lying on his side facing her, his hand supporting his head. He wore a serious expression, his long hair falling freely down his shoulders.

Sonea watched him, uncertain how to begin. She had to be careful. He would sense that she did not like his mother very much. He had been present when Daidra had slighted her. He would have noticed, wouldn´t he? Since she could not hide her feelings she decided to stick as close to the truth as possible. Strictly speaking, the only thing she was not allowed to tell him was that Daidra would be trying to separate them.

"Your mother..." She averted her eyes and looked unhappy. "Well, she does not seem to agree with your choice of a wife. She –"

"Yes?"

Sonea shrugged. "It´s not important. Really." Immediately, a suspicious light entered the High Lord´s gaze. He looked at her levelly and remained silent. Her gaze dropped to her hands.

She waited. If she gave in too quickly he would never swallow what she meant to 'admit' in the end.

The silence grew uncomfortable. Sonea shot him a quick glance and found his dark gaze still fixed on her. She changed her seating position but did not say anything. Akkarin lay there nearly motionless. Sonea sighed and let her eyes wander over his body. _He is so gentle and beautiful, she thought, not for the first time. Yes_, a voice cautioned inside her head, _but also very dangerous and damaged_. Sonea smiled sadly. _No, you do not understand. This darkness in him is what makes him so irresistible. That and the fact that he trusts me. At least, he trusts me more than anyone else, maybe even Takan. And I love him. I love him so much and I am going to lie to him._

These thoughts made her blink away tears once again. She hastily rose from the bed and made to walk to the door. In a fluid and incredibly fast motion, Akkarin pushed himself up from the bed, grasped her wrist and pulled her back again, so that she was seated on his lap. She turned away. Strong, long fingers stroked the side of her chin and drew her head back.

Sonea´s eyes met his and the tears she had tried to smother returned. They were running down her cheeks. The High Lord traced the wet streaks with his lips until they met hers. His lips lingered, then he kissed her eyelids and her cheeks and her lips and her nose and her forehead and her throat and her shoulders and her arms and then he rested his forehead against hers and waited.

After a while Sonea broke the contact and gently tugged his hair behind his ears. Then she attempted a smile.

"Better?" Akkarin asked. His wife nodded. "Sonea, I know that my mother can be quite, eh, forward at times. Did she say anything that upset you?"

Forward? Now that was a classic understatement, Sonea thought. But since he had just given her the perfect cue…

"Your mother – your mother thought you had only married me, because I am pregnant", she murmured.

His arms around her tensed. "What?"

"Your mother thought –"

"No", his voice was strained. Akkarin lifted her up and sat her down next to him. Then he stared at her, his eyes wide and shock obvious in his face.

Sonea was puzzled. Surely Akkarin could not be that surprised about his mother´s assumption? Not that she would mind, if he agreed that his mother was a stupid and mean–. Then suddenly she realised what she had said and went crimson from ear to ear.

"Oh", she stuttered. "Oh, no. No, you misunderstood. I, eh, I am not pregnant, not really, it was just what she thought. Your, eh, mother…? You know?"

She looked at him in such a confused and embarrassed and pleading way that Akkarin suddenly burst out laughing. He laughed and laughed until tears stood in his eyes and he had to gasp for breath. That made Sonea gape at him in such an open-mouthed astonishment that her husband started to laugh even harder.

"I´m sorry", he managed between fits of laughter, "it is just your face, I wish you could see yourself. I thought I had seen the deepest red on your face in the carriage and earlier this evening, but I guess I was mistaken."

Sonea had never heard him laugh like that before. He had a beautiful, full and melodious voice when speaking and so his laughter was very pleasant. She smiled and hugged him. Lifting up her face she frowned at him.

"It was embarrasing having to tell your mother. She did not react as amused as you just did."

Akkarin sobered immediately and his expression was serious once more. "I can imagine how that must have made you feel unwelcome."

"Unwelcome? Yes, it did feel like that. Daidra, she has made it clear that I will have a difficult time to win her acceptance."

"I am sorry that she made such rude assumptions, Sonea. I guess she was surprised and not only a bit outraged that I had married without her approval. And I did notice how she tested you. She will come around, I am sure. She will come to accept my choice in time."

"Do you think so?" Sonea could not keep bitter doubt out of her voice.

"I know so. She will have to, because I am truly, deeply and madly in love with you." He favoured her with a dazzling smile.

Sonea kissed him. "She did invite me over for tea on my next Freeday."

"Yes, I overheard you talking about this. That is good. You will have time to win her favour then." It was his time to look pleading. "I know that it is not easy to cope with her, but she is really very important to my plans as well as to me personally. You´ll try?"

She gave him a somehow forced warm smile and caressed his face. "I´ll try."

He drew her close. "Thank you." Her head rested on his shoulder and she closed her eyes for a moment, cherishing his nearness. Something tugged at her though.

"Akkarin?"

"Hmm?"

"What…, if I truly had been pregnant?"

He stilled, but did not cease to caress her back. "Well", he said after a while. "I guess we would have had to enlarge the residence then, so that it could have housed our children."

"Children? Plural?" She looked at him amused.

"Why, yes! I will have to teach someone to ride and swim. These great skills should not be lost in the family, don´t you agree?"

"I see. Eh, I hope you are not disappointed that nothing happened so far? Not even when, eh, we both thought the other, well, saw to things?"

Akkarin smiled. "No. There will be time for this later. I want you to finish your education here in the Guild. And times are not as secure as I would like them to be when having children with you."

Sonea beamed at him. "I love you."

Akkarin chuckled and lay back on the bed. Sonea joined him. They both looked at the ceiling where shadows of the trees outside danced mysterious patterns.

"If I had been pregnant and it would have been a girl, what would you have wanted to call her?"

Akkarin thought about this for a time. "Hmm, maybe Alia as remembrance to my sister. If it had been a boy though –"

Akkarin laughed silently. Then he told her of that day that he and Lorlen had once again been caught at having performed some new mischief and Lord Margen had been so agitated and short of breath that he had not managed to rightly pronounce their names as he had been running after them through some lengthy corridors. The angry shouts of 'Lorlen, Akkarin, come here this instant!' and 'Lorlen, Akkarin, stay where you are!' and later on 'Lorlen, Akkarin!' had somehow merged into a word that had become the troublemakers´ infamous nickname in the novices´ minds. That expression had been used by all novices and even some teachers after this incident. Lorlen and he had been inseparable as it were, therefore it had always been a good guess that if you looked for one of them you found the other. So, one name that addressed them both at the same time had been deemed convenient.

Akkarin looked at his wife and chuckled again. "Well, if it was a boy I´d call him Lor-kin."

The carriage drew to a rather abrupt halt and Regin heard his guardian utter a curse under his breath. So, they had arrived. The door was opened and a servant hastily hinged down the step. Lord Garrell and Regin exited and went over to the doors of the House of family Winar.

It was located in the Inner Circle and had the typical Kyralian three-story build. Its warm sandstone façade glowed in the evening light. House Winar was door to door with House Velan. The townhouse of the High Lord´s family loomed to his right. Since these Houses were located near the Guild, it was pure luck that they had been spared by Kariko and his allies who had made their way from the main-road towards the gates of the Guild. If they had known that this was the High Lord´s home… Thinking about the Guild´s leader brought back thoughts of the slum girl. Regin made an angry noise and pushed those thoughts away. An evening of triumph awaited him and he did not intend to have that spoiled by her in any way.

A servant bowed them into the house, then led them into the exquisitely decorated dining room. The table was laid for a grand formal dinner. The opulence in red and gold made Regin sigh in relief. It was so good to be home and out of those shabby Novices´Quarters. He was used to higher standards.

The servant had left to inform his parents that they had arrived. He settled in one of the armchairs that were arranged before a fireplace at the side of the room. His uncle let himself fall into one of the others. The Warrior looked at him with a smile.

"So, Regin, four months from now and you will have finished your education in the Guild and be able to choose a profession. I assume you will join our ranks?"

"Yes, uncle. I always wanted to become a Warrior, as you know." Secretly he added that this was because he had wanted to become a Knight before learning he had magical ability. He thought that a Warrior was very close to that. There had never been any doubt in him that he would become a fearsome and nobel defender of the weak and helpless, that he would be the high-born hero. There never had until one of the weak and helpless had been allowed to join the Guild and set his world spinning upside down. Sonea had not been like the poor, but beautiful and honourable maidens he had read about in the books, neither had she been deceiving and evil like those sly witches. She had been, well, her.

Of course Regin was grown up and he did not think that the books were reality anymore, but he had been certain that the social classes at least reflected those in the tales. Since Sonea had stepped where she did not belong, he had decided that it was his right and his task to put her in her place. The slum girl, however, had refused to act in an appropriate way. Regin heaved a disgusted sigh. There she was again. Why was that? He did not want her to surface in his thoughts so often. His uncle saved him from further contemplation.

"That is what I expected, Regin. You are very talented at it and it would be a shame to waste your time and energy on something as meaningless as, say, Alchemy." They laughed at this.

A short while later the door opened and Regin´s parents entered. His father looked older than the last time he had seen him though it had only been a week. His mother glided over and warmly greeted her brother. "Garrell, it is good to see you, be welcome."

The Warrior rose and embraced her. "Isidra, dear, I am glad to see you, too. Your son was most eager to come here today."

Isidra of Winar whirled around and before he could say anything, Regin was hugged against his mother´s formidable bossom. "Oh, Reggy-darling, I could swear you have grown some inches again."

"Mother, you only saw me last week", Regin protested, flattered nonetheless.

"I know, darling, isn´t that amazing?" She fondly ruffled his hair. Now that was embarrassing. He was going to be a fully graduated magician in less than half a year and a Warrior surely did not have his hair disarranged by his mother.

"Yes and I am also growing a beard, mother, a beard, okay?"

To his utter mortification, Isidra ran her hand over his chin and sighed. "Ah, the children grow up all too soon, do you not agree Dalin?"

Regin´s father offered his hand to Lord Garrell, then turned towards his youngest son. "Regin, I hear that you have done well in the Warrior Lessons with Lord Balkan. However, your grades in Healing are just average at best. I want this changed."

Regin hastily nodded. "Yes, father." Then he glanced to his uncle who nodded his agreement. "We will address this, Dalin. Where is Sirian?"

Isidra of Winar clapped her hands imperiously, her golden necklace sparkling in the light of the candles. Her red silk gown highlighted her immaculate blond hair and the sky-blue eyes in her doll´s face with lips that made the impression that she constantly pouted prettily. "Jania!" There was an impatient touch to her voice now. "Jania!"

The door opened and a servant rushed in, bowing. "Yes, Milady?" The noblewoman fixed her with a displeased stare. "I would have thought that by now you understood the difference between 'inform my son in a while' and do so 'immediately after the other guests have arrived'."

The young girl paled and lowered her eyes. In a small voice she said, "I am sorry, Milady. I have informed Lord Sirian when Lord Garrell and Lord Regin arrived, but it seems that his wife is not feeling well and–"

"Silence", Isidra hissed. "I am not interested in your petty excuses, girl. Get my son, now, or you can pack your belongings and leave."

If possible the girl turned even whiter than before. She hastily bowed and hurried out of the room.

"Stupid slum scum. It is so hard to find a decent maid these days. Poor Regin having to consort with one of these...these creatures in the Guild. It is disgusting that she was allowed in there in the first place. Well, you see what came out of that, now, do you not? Breaking the law is inbred in them, I guess. Learning forbidden magic and defying the King. She should have been executed, if you ask me."

Regin did not hear this for the first time. And not for the first time did he wonder how his mother managed to forget about the fact that the same could be said about the High Lord. Well, he was not going to point that out.

What he was curious about, however, was his mother´s strained nerves. It was not unusual for her to shout at servants, but usually that happened later into the evening. Looking closer he noticed dark circles under his mother´s eyes. She had used a lot of powder so that they had not been visible at first glance. What was going on? Why did both his parents look like they had not slept well in days? If something major had happened they would have told him, would they not? Unless, of course – _they are worried about me and do not want to distress me. But why since last week?_

Regin did not find a satisfying answer to this. Still, it was good to know that they cared about him like this. He decided to distract her from her worries. He smiled and laid a hand gently on his mother´s arm. "Mother?"

"Yes, darling?"

"I am ravenous, will dinner be served soon?" Isidra chuckled fondly, but now that he had noticed, he could still see the strain edged into her usually soft features.

"We are waiting for Sirian, darling, then we´ll eat."

"Did I hear my name?" A tall, blond-haired, muscular man clad in the latest fashion strode into the room, his subdued wife trailing behind. Sirian always wore a twinkle in his steely-grey eyes, but Regin knew that this was just pretence. Sirian did not like many people apart from himself. Being all-smiles was just another way to manipulate people into doing what he wanted them to. And he was most successful when it came to their mother. "Now who is this beautiful yound Lady, should I know you?" he said and kissed their mother´s hand after making an elaborate bow.

Isidra laughed with bell-like chimes and slapped him teasingly on the arm. "Sirian, stop making fun of your old mother."

_I may vomit_, Regin thought. And it certainly did not help that his brilliant older brother moved over and nearly suffocated him in a bear hug that – he assumed – was supposed to be a display of brotherly affection. As expected Sirian did not release him, but caught his arm, whirled him around and caught him in a headlock. Regin resisted the urge to blast him with magic. He knew that their mother would never forgive him if he used magic against his older brother, and so did Sirian. As always, he simply suffered through this 'fun' and waited until his brother released him.

"So, Reg, how are things at the Guild. I have heard the High Lord landed himself with this girl who gave you a thrashing? Hmm, let´s hope he at least is able to handle her." He laughed throatily, finding himself immensely amusing, no doubt. "Handle her, hehe, know what I mean? Well, why not put her to some use after all? I cannot imagine, however, that our neighbour wanted this to get out, that he is teaching her in other fields than magic, as well. Yep, when this guardian-thing is over he´ll have been paid for his troubles." He smirked.

Before he could stop himself Regin retorted, "Actually they are married, Sirian. Didn´t you know?" His brother frowned, displeased. Sirian did not like to be corrected, especially by him. He would have to suffer for this later, Regin knew.

"Is that so? Well, no matter. Uncle Garrell, how are you these days? You must have a lot of work now that the City has to be rebuild and all."

That was a mistake, Regin thought triumphantly. Now that Sirian had given the cue he would be able to lead the conversation easily to his heroic moment. He had already prepared a fascinating version of the events that would capture their attention easily. He straightened.

"You are right, Sirian, we do have a lot of work. Apart from rebuilding the houses that have been destroyed, we have to organise our defence and continue the education. I am sure that we will manage, though." His guardian laid an arm around Regin´s shoulders. "When our fifth-years have joined us we will have the necessary support."

"That is good news, good news."

Just as Regin wanted to start his story Dalin of family Winar, Head of House Paren made an impatient noise and raised his eyebrows. "Enough of this. Sit down so that dinner can be served."

His family obeyed and soon they were seated. Dinner was eaten in silence with the occasional polite comment and question. Regin was growing very impatient. He had lost his first chance. Now he had to wait for the meal to be finished before being able to spin his tale.

He had refused to talk about these events so far, claiming they were still too horrible for him to share. In truth, he had been building up tension, wanting his parents to see the importance of this. Hah, and now he would be able to perform this in front of his brother. Some of his good mood was restored as he imagined Sirian´s dumbstruck stupid face when he lost his parents´ attention for once.

Catching his mother´s eyes he sighed heavily and looked down at his plate. Counting down ten seconds he looked up again and found that his mother was still watching him a concerned frown on her face. So far so good. He gave her a sad, but heroic smile. She smiled back shortly. This interaction was not missed by his father who regarded him speculatively. Regin straightened and nodded at Dalin gravely to indicate that he had something important to say. His father´s eyes swept back to Sirian, but returned a short while later and lingered on him a moment longer. The first victory was won.

As the Head of House Paren cleared his throat all communication ceased and five faces turned towards the Lord of the townhouse.

"My family, we have come together this evening to finally share news of great importance and sad tragedy. You all know that the invasion of Kyralia has cost many lives and brought along many a devastating fate. Of course, heroic fighting and endurance were to be seen, too." At that he inclined his head towards Lord Garrell, who was sitting next to Regin. The Warrior lifted his glass in silent salute. Gazing into the small gathering, Dalin continued with a grave and hoarse voice. "However, I think that one member of this family has suffered worst in this war. And I think it is time we acknowledge that."

The Head of House Paren lifted his glass and the others followed suit. Regin´s hand was shaking slightly with anticipation. It was even better than he had imagined it. He had not even needed to bring up the subject again. His father had decided to officially announce him as the family hero. Warmth and happiness spread through him and made him quite giddy.

His father cleared his throat.

_Yes, say it, say it..._

Regin was nearly hopping up and down from sheer excitement. His father drew in a deep breath.

_Say it, come on, say it and make this Sirian´s worst day in life._

"To Liviana, who lost her husband."

"To Liviana", echoed all except Regin.

Utter disbelief and painful disillusionment washed over him. He stood frozen to the spot, his hand was now shaking so violently that he spilled some of the wine onto the table and his features were blank with shock and hurt.

A hand rested on his arm. Completely lacking any emotional expression he turned towards his mother who had come around the table. He had not noticed, when had she done so? "Terrible, is it not, poor Liviana", she crooned.

Something inside of him snapped and before anyone could react Regin of Winar smashed his glass against the wall and ran out of the room. None of those left behind saw the furious tears that were running down his cheeks.

**A/N: And did you like my explanation of Lor-kin? ehehehehehe, I thought a little hommage was due since he will not make i****t into the sequel ;-)**


	7. Uncomfortable truths

**A/N: So here you go, chapter 7. God, I nearly killed myself writing this one. I rewrote it so often that in the end I had to just set it aside for a moment in order to be able to get a new perspective again. I very much enjoyed writing Dannyl in this **** Laura, the ending is for you ;-) and also for relieving some of the tension *lol* Akkarin and his dark thoughts were much more demanding, tell me what you think of his character in this chapter! IC? OOC?**

**Sorry for the long delay – really am. I´ll try to be faster with the next. I hope it helps that this one is really long…**

**Thanks to MoonMyst, who had to struggle with my ramblings once again!**

CHAPTER 7

Uncomfortable truths

Dannyl was headed towards the Night Room. Ever since he had returned from Elyne he had gone back to his old form of listening to and spying on the other magicians.

These were great times for a spy considering everything that had happened. Dannyl, however, had never been involved as personally as he was now. Well he had been when rumours about him and the other novice had started, but then he had not been allowed into the Night Room.

He entered and surveyed the room. Rothen would be somewhere around he hoped. Granted, he still dreaded awkward questions, but his need to tell his old mentor about Takan´s strange behaviour was stronger. He spotted another purple robe at the table usually reserved for the Higher Magicians and sure enough when he approached the man he turned and smiled at him.

"Dannyl, back from the High Lord already? Well, how did it go?"

Dannyl noticed that Rothen still looked a bit haggard and pale, but the dark circles under his eyes and the haunted look in them had vanished. Sonea had returned and survived. Akkarin had been vindicated and both of them had ended up married. Dannyl grinned remembering how Rothen had constantly had to dry moisture from his eyes during the short wedding ceremony. Rothen lifted his eyebrow questioningly, bringing his former novice back to the present.

"Your thoughts are lingering where exactly?" the older magician asked.

"Oh, I was just thinking that you only look old and ugly now, not corpselike anymore."

"Why, how charming Dannyl. I really would not have noticed if you had not pointed that out. Speaking about looks, how is your dashing young companion? Has he already found himself a, eh, distraction?"

Dannyl´s heartbeat accelerated. Did Rothen suspect something? No, it was not like him to tease Dannyl like that. "Distraction?" he managed. He must have worn a strange expression, however, because Rothen´s face immediately grew serious.

"Dannyl, this was not meant as an insult, surely you know this. I was just referring to the rumours that many young Ladies have expressed interest in him. A wonder that you have not been accosted by any of them for information about him. Elynian court is known to sprout rumours like a toad does warts, but I am not sure whether Imardin´s inhabitants are any better. It´s funny, first they are sure that you two are involved with each other and now the female part seems to have decided that any man with such looks just cannot be a 'lad' – that was the expression you used right? – and has to be available still."

Dannyl chuckled relieved, if a bit hysterical. "Yes, but, and you have to keep this confidential, those Ladies will have to be ready for a disappointment. I think Tayend already has a love interest." Damn, what had made him say that? "Well, not a Lady strictly speaking." Why not bloody shout his own name at Rothen and be done with it? "Anyway, I was looking for you."

"Looking for me? So, the meeting did not go as expected?"

"Actually, I did not meet the High Lord, Rothen. It was something else I wanted to talk to you about. Somewhere a bit less noisy maybe?"

The older magician nodded and led him away from the other Higher Magicians to a table that was farther down the room and which was still unoccupied. Dannyl let himself sink down into a chair and stretched his long legs. He absentmindedly brushed his hand through his still tousled hair.

Rothen leaned forward and fixed him with a stern stare. "Dannyl, I know this look. What have you done?"

"Done, me? Why is it always me? I am an Ambassador now, remember? It is Sonea I wanted to tell you something about."

"Sonea? What about her?" Concern had entered the other man´s voice. Dannyl told him about how he had tried to intercept the High Lord and how it had only been Sonea who had exited the carriage. "You should have seen the look on her face. I really would not have liked to cross her in that moment. I don´t know, somehow I had a really bad feeling about this, so I went to the residence. The High Lord then contacted me telling me he had been delayed and that we would meet in the morning. That only made me more suspicious. I mean, weren´t they off to visit 'The' Delvon together? So, when I knocked, it was Takan who opened. Believe it or not, he told me very shortly that Sonea would not receive any visitors and closed the door in my face."

"He did that, did he? Hmm, what has your spy-mind made of these facts?"

"Well, they have not returned together. Sonea looked like thunder and storm, and Akkarin cancelled our meeting because he was delayed. It might be my imagination, but I think that the High Lord´s mind communication was a bit strained, too. Strange to think that this man can feel anything like that, too. Well, conclusion one, they have had a row and Sonea was angry at him. Conclusion two, they were not received quite as nicely as they would have hoped for and Akkarin sent her along to speak to his mother alone. Which would either mean that Sonea was furious with him or his mother or with both. Either way, your novice was in such a state that Takan decided to protect her against even a friend. Which leads to conclusion number three. She has had a bad day, a very bad day…"

Rothen nodded. "Yes, that does sound convincing. Hmm..."

"Rothen!"

"Dannyl?"

"She has had a very, very bad day and does not come looking for you? Don´t you think that´s strange?"

"Ah," Rothen looked down upon his hands, his forehead creased in a frown, "I see. I guess if she has had a fight with Akkarin she would not want to tell this to anyone. It would not be strange if she decided to sort this out with her husband alone. If, however, she has been angered by Daidra of Delvon, it would be so typical of her to not complain, even if she could do with a bit of consoling. Maybe I should simply ask her, what do you think?"

Dannyl nodded. "Yes, you should. Thank you."

Rothen sighed. "But maybe Takan won´t let me in either." Though this was clearly meant as a joke, Dannyl detected a slightly worried undertone in the other man´s voice. "Rothen, you are her guardian. You can simply tell her to come to you."

Such a pained expression settled on his friend´s features that the Ambassador reached out and laid a hand on the other´s arm. "Rothen?"

The older man looked up and sighed heavily. Then he laid his wrinkled, warm hand over that of his former novice and squeezed. "Don´t be worried, Dannyl, it is just that everything changed too fast for me. It just doesn´t feel like I am her guardian. She lives in the residence and she spends every free minute with him. Not that I complain, I mean, they are married. It´s just…" Rothen hesitated. "I so wanted everything to be alright again. I always thought that somehow we would fight Akkarin, free her of him and everything would be as before between us. That is a very selfish thought, isn´t it?" He laughed ruefully. Dannyl´s heart went out to him. He squeezed back.

"Actually, no, it is not. I do understand. Will you believe me when I tell you that she still loves you very much, that you still hold a very special place in her heart? She is simply very much in love. That does not mean that she does not want to spend time with you. Without you she would not even be here, remember! Now, go on and call her. That is not a suggestion." They grinned at each other and Dannyl was happy to see a little spark had returned to the grey-blue eyes.

"Yes, Ambassador, I´ll see to this immediately," Rothen teased. Dannyl mimicked his former guardian and answered, "Then see that you do, off with you."

Laughing Rothen reached out with his mind and called to his novice.

Still lying next to her husband on the bed, Sonea chuckled, imagining the novices Lorlen and Akkarin getting into trouble and earning their nickname through this. Then she sobered as she saw the sadness in Akkarin´s eyes. She took his hand and squeezed. "Lorkin is perfect. I had thought you might want to name a son Lorlen, but that is even better. Even if I did not really get to know him as well as I would have wanted to, I miss him. Did I tell you that he was there for me the first time that Regin, well, ambushed me?"

Akkarin winced and shook his head solemnly. "No, you did not, but I knew. He was wearing the blood ring, remember? Lorlen liked you a lot. Ever since the Guardianship hearing he felt responsible for you. He confronted me once about letting Regin and the others gang up on you."

Sonea gasped and rolled to her side fixing him with a wide-eyed stare. "He did although he thought that, well that you –" She hesitated, groping for the right words.

"– that I had betrayed our friendship and had turned into a dangerous and cold-hearted stranger? Yes!" The High Lord pulled himself up and sat at the edge of the bed. His whole body was tense, but he continued in a soft voice. "He always was the more courageous one." Sonea made a noise of disbelief, but her husband forestalled her. "No, that is true. Lorlen always was the one to see things through whereas I blundered into them. He saw them through and still chose to do the right thing. That I fought all those spies was more self-preservation and necessity than altruistic act. I did not decide I wanted to learn black magic and defend Kyralia and when I accepted the post of High Lord it was because I wanted distraction as much as a way to protect the Guild. These deeds might seem heroic to you, but they really were nothing but what I had to suffer for for stumbling blindly into Sachaka all those years ago, blinded by my haste and thirst for novelty. Such a fool. A fine way to repay the Guild for five years worth of education, don´t you think? Spilling all the knowledge and revealing the secret of our lack of strength to the enemy. If not for me, Kariko would have been none the wiser. It was my naivety that brought about this war. At least so soon. I am not vain or stupid enough to believe that Sachaka would not have been alerted to our lacking strength in time, but I more or less invited the worst scum of the land to invade. Lorlen, he did everything to keep the Guild safe, he suffered through each of our meetings clearly resenting my helpless friendliness. He never once asked me to teach him black magic. He just demanded an explanation of why I had betrayed everything we held dear. He must have been shocked nearly to death when he saw my crime in your mind and still he remained focused and in control and made the only decision that saved us all. If he had reacted in any other way, we´d all be dead by now. You would never have learnt black magic, I would have been executed and Imardin would have fallen. Lorlen remained and gave them hope when I failed in all these aspects. And they call me Saviour of the City. "

He laughed sarcastically. Akkarin´s voice had taken on a strained and self-mocking tone. Sonea shuddered. More than once she had wished he was more open and forward with his thoughts, but now she found that maybe sometimes his cool demeanour had its secure side to it. She wanted to interrupt him and tell him he was a fool for thinking about himself like this, but she felt that he would immediately draw back into himself if she intervened now. She realised again that he was not only beautiful and dangerous but also very, very vulnerable and complicated. So she decided to simply lay her hand on his arm and show him that she could bear his thoughts as dark as they were. His hand brushed hers, but he did not look at her. His eyes were fixed somewhere beyond.

"The only times I could have shown true loyalty and courage I failed. I failed to tell him why I carried that burden in the first place. I failed to trust a friendship that had always proven true. I failed to give him the choice I never had. I failed to muster the courage to face him like a friend after he discovered my secret and at the same time I failed to push him away from me in order to make him hate me to make it easier for him. And –" Here his voice broke and Sonea´s heart answered with a painful twist. He drew in a sharp breath and forced himself to go on. "And I failed to save him in the end. I came back to Imardin thinking I would not survive. I never considered that I would be the one to have to bury him. I failed him and I failed you."

Too much, that was too much. She had not expected the conversation to turn down this road. Akkarin was in one of the darkest moods she had ever seen him in. It had all started off with this funny story, how had things turned out to become so tense? "Failed me, Akkarin? What are you talking about?"

Finally his dark gaze met hers and it turned her blood cold to see the deep ache and utter despair in them before he blinked and schooled his expression back to an appropriate 'sad'. "I should never have taught you black magic and after that I should never have let my feelings get the better of me and –"

"Stop!" Sonea was shaking with fury. "Don´t you dare regret teaching me and don´t, don´t you ever dare regret loving me!" She was shouting now, but she did not care. She glared at him, forcing him to feel what his words did to her. He looked so guilty that he had hurt her that she cried out from frustration and roughly pulled him into her embrace. There was nothing gentle about it, just an undeniable, instinctive urge to protect and possess.

She felt him stiffen. Panic seized her for a moment. Then she understood that he simply couldn´t bear this intimacy at that moment of weakness. Just like when she had first witnessed his nightmares, Akkarin did not want to be comforted. She released him and stood up from the bed in order to get her feelings under control again. She paced up and down for some minutes before finally settling back on the bed next to him. She hated that he needed distance right now when all she wanted to do was hold him close and tell him how much she loved him.

"Go on", she said. Akkarin did not respond. She felt him looking at her and lifted her gaze to meet his. As expected his eyes expressed uncertainty and a spark of guilt. She held his gaze but did not touch him. "Go on." The far-away look on his face reminded her of that day at the spring when he had told her his story. She had been dumbstruck by his revelations and too intimidated by him still to say anything. He had complimented her on this, she recalled and obviously that had been exactly what he had needed right then, that she simply listened. So, no interruptions or arguments anymore, she decided.

The High Lord sighed and continued. "I feel so tired at times and still sleep refuses to come. I regret so much. The greatest regret is that I did not have the chance to explain to him properly. He deserved to know everything. Yes, he heard the official version of my story. I guess he did forgive me in the end, though I hardly deserve it, but I never had the chance to tell him how much it hurt me to force that damned ring on him, how much it pained me when I had to reduce him to being subservient. I know I had to do it, but sometimes I wonder whether all this has been worth the cost. And I question my decisions and ask myself if things would have gone differently if I had confided in him. Who knows, maybe together we would have been able to work things out? But I failed again. I was too frightened to face the look of disgust in my best friend´s eyes should I reveal the truth. I was frightened out of my wits at the thought of loosing him. And so I selfishly kept him in the dark. Be careful, Sonea, it seems I have the habit to get those I love killed and survive to suffer for this." A joyless, dead laugh broke free from his lips sending chills over her skin.

The silence afterwards was nearly unbearable. They both remained silent, Sonea petrified and pleased by the trust he had just shown her and very, very frightened she might ruin it by saying or doing something foolish and by the look in his eyes, her husband was just realising how much he had told her and maybe regretted it already. She felt helpless and shy. These feelings had not been her companions for a very long time now so she felt their sting with a cold clarity. Panic seizing her again she struggled with what to do next. All her instincts drove her to hug him and make him feel alright when at the same time the voice inside her head shouted to leave him alone. Akkarin did not move. He sat there on the bed like a marble statue again - cold, distanced, beautifully damaged and fragile.

They were saved from finding their way out of this by a mental call.

—_Sonea!_

—_Ro...Rothen?_

—_Hello Sonea. I would like you to meet me in my rooms._

—_Oh? Yes, of course. When?_

—_I´ll expect you there in ten minutes. Is that agreeable with you?_

—_Of course, Rothen, I´ll be there. See you!_

—_And you! _

Sonea detected Rothen´s usual caring and warm presence behind the communication, but there was also something else. A feeling of – relief? Why would he feel relieved after that short conversation? Sonea shook her head. That was strange, she would have to ask him about that. She realised that it had been far too long that she had had a good talk with her guardian. She had spent every free minute with learning and being with Akkarin. She smiled. It would do her good to see her oldest friend in the Guild.

She felt the bed shift and saw Akkarin standing up and walking over to the chair he had dropped his robes onto. He pulled them on and tamed his hair back into a tail. When he faced her again, some warmth had returned to his eyes. "Thank you for listening again, Sonea. I have to speak to Lord Osen, now. You should go to Rothen immediately."

She nodded and smiled at him even if she was a bit unsure of how he expected her to react. He walked up to her and gave her a quick kiss on the mouth. His left, long-fingered hand brushed her hair out of her face. Then he was gone.

Sonea finished dressing properly and left the residence. She wondered what Rothen might want from her and hoped it was just a social meeting between friends.

It had already been a demanding day. First the encounter with that farce of a mother-in-law, then her run-in with Dorrien, those delicious moments in her husband´s arms and finally the awkward situation with him telling her truths she´d rather not hear, but yearned to share nevertheless.

She reached the Magicians´quarters and headed towards Rothen´s rooms, bowing politely to each magician she met along the way. She noticed that some of them inclined their heads in acknowledgement whereas others simply walked by or even hurried away. Yes, some Guild members still did not feel comfortable around a black magician. Her novice´s robes did not conceal the fact she was far stronger than any of them even without black magic. Of course, the same held true for Akkarin, but he would never be treated with anything but respect. Sonea had noticed that the general behaviour towards him had changed a bit after the re-election. People seemed to approach him more often, talk to him more often and share their concerns. So, Akkarin´s tactics seem to work, she mused.

When she reached the door to Rothen´s apartment she knocked. The door opened immediately and she went inside to find her guardian and Ambassador Dannyl seated on two of the comfortable armchairs before the fireplace. The latter grinned at her and then turned to his old mentor. "See?" he said and Rothen rolled his eyes.

Sonea found she did not understand this strange exchange between the two. She made herself comfortable in the third chair and faced her two friends with a look that was somewhere between polite interest, mild annoyance and happy mischievousness. "See what?" she challenged. Rothen beamed at her. "Nothing important, Sonea, don´t mind him."

"Right, don´t mind that misbehaving yet striking old novice of his. He is just here for decorative reasons, you know. Brightening up the room, looking distinguished…"

"Good Lord, Rothen, I never knew Regin was one of yours, too?"

Dannyl gasped. "Oi, you, did you just compare me to that swollen-up little imitation of Lord Fergun, that greasy-slick-haired git next door?"

"Dannyl, you know he died and how. Let him rest in peace." Sonea chuckled. Dannyl grumbled something unintelligible then said out loud, "Honestly, Sonea, don´t remind me of this little rodent, I still feel like giving him a thrashing for his behaviour towards you. The same for Regin, too." He smirked and all three of them laughed.

Sonea looked up at Dannyl not a little amused. "You know, it´s not like he tried anything lately."

"So? That doesn´t mean that – wait, did you just defend Regin?"

"Happens to the best of us", Sonea retaliated though she had to admit that it had felt a bit alien to speak up for her old enemy. Ever since that day with the Thieves had he surfaced in her thoughts at unbidden moments.

She was even more on edge since Regin´s behaviour in the classroom during her first lesson. He had made her sit next to him then announcing her new status to the whole class. Problem was, though, that they still didn´t know how to act towards each other so that they spent most of their time in awkward silence, jumping whenever the other moved or even breathed. It was ridiculous. She should simply have changed her seat again, but somehow she had not found the heart to decline his gesture. Then again she still could not trust him. Mostly she waited for his fake friendliness to waver and reveal his true face again. Three weeks had passed, however, and Regin still refused to act as expected. It was really annoying. Not that she wished for him to behave like before, but that nervously smiling imitation of the novice she had known sent chills down her spine. The old Regin at least, had been predictable, he had been a jerk – cold, manipulative, cowardly, sly, condescending, thinking better of himself, nose-up-in-the-air-ish...

No, Sonea wasn´t sure how she felt about having to reassess her view on him. When Regin had offered to play the bait for trapping another Ichani, she had been impressed by his courage and his fierce determination to save Kyralia. It had been a truly heroic deed. Gone was the arrogant high-born prince who hid behind his cronies. He had risked his life in order to defend Imardin. Surely his family was very proud of him. Sonea snorted disgusted. Yes, she could just imagine how they would hold a grand formal dinner for his honour and declare him the family hero. He´d like that, she was sure.

She felt a finger nudging against her forehead. "Will you tell us what is going on behind those dark, mysterious eyes of yours?"

Sonea snapped out of her thoughts and focused on the two men again. "Are you flirting with me, Ambassador?"

Dannyl ran his hand through his dark hair in a perfect imitation of Lord Fergun and gave her a smoky-eyed look. He moved closer to her until their knees met. "Who me? I´d never."

Now it was Sonea´s turn to close the distance between them. She leaned forward until her face nearly touched his and whispered. "You´d better not. I am married and my husband is a very jealous man."

Dannyl winced and though it was only a second until he had his features under control again Sonea had seen it. "Do I detect a flicker of fear, Ambassador?"

"Hardly," he said very dignified but leaned back grinning. Sonea smiled back and thought for about the hundredth time just how easy it was to like Dannyl. She wondered why he was still a bachelor. Maybe those rumours had a hint of truth to them? Ah, well, it did not matter. She enjoyed his company very much and that was the most important thing, wasn´t it?

"Actually I was thinking about the second little rat you mentioned."

"Regin? What about him?"

Sonea lifted her eyebrows and frowned at him. "Regin is not really important, you know. You still haven´t told me why I am here."

Rothen smiled at her. "I wanted to talk to you, that´s all."

Dannyl stood up and hugged her, a twinkle in his eyes. "Well, this decorative item has gotten the hint and will leave now." He left the room chuckling.

Sonea turned to her guardian. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

One hour later she went back to the residence with a warm feeling in her stomach. It was good to know that Rothen did still care about her like this and it had felt so good to just talk to him, even when she could not be completely honest about Akkarin´s mother. She had told him very much the same story she had spun for her husband and he had understood and offered consoling and encouraging words.

Sonea yawned and hurried up the stairs. She needed sleep. She undressed and as soon as her head hit the pillow she was gone. Two hours later a creaking noise awoke her. The door opened and the High Lord stepped inside. He undressed and Sonea watched fascinated by his pale skin that seemed to glow in the moonlight that filtered through the shutters. A sigh escaped her. Dark eyes met hers for a moment then the rest of his face loomed over her. He kissed her deeply. Then he slid under the blanket and cradled her against his chest. "Sleep, love", he whispered.

It was only when she drifted back to sleep that she realised that her husband had still not told her what his mother had wanted from him after she had left his parents´ house. Well, that would have to wait for the next day. She had already had enough dark thoughts this day. For now she snuggled closer to his body and felt his scent and warmth envelop her. Where not three hours ago he had stiffened at her touch, he now seemed to cling to her.

_I really love you, you irritating man_, she thought. The warm breath at her neck and the light tightening of the arms around her body spoke of his amusement. Sonea ventured into dreamland with a small smile playing around her lips.

Such a satisfied smirk appeared on Dannyl´s features that his companion gasped from outrage then gripped one of the pillows and started hitting him with abandon.

"You outrageous man. Take that back this instance! We are talking about a man about twenty years older than me. That´s so disgusting!"

Dannyl laughed teasingly. "You know, if you want to hurt me you are not really succeeding."

The scholar immediately stopped hitting him with the pillow and glared at him. As the magician was just sitting up in order to kiss the other man Tayend suddenly moved with lightening speed and before the Ambassador could react he found himself being pinned to the bed by his warm body.

Amusement sparkling in his dark eyes, he raised a questioning eyebrow at his lover who now towered over him. "Well?"

Tayend told him that he most definitely looked too smug still and put more strength into his grip and resting his full weight on the magician´s body. Dannyl was pressed into the mattress and the air was squeezed out of his lungs. The dark gaze did not waver.

"Tayend, Tayend, I only asked you if you found Lord Balkan to your taste. Nothing insinuating about this."

"Hah, I know you well enough now, Dannyl, everything you say is insinuating."

"What? Me, I am innocence incarnated!"

"Like Tilidin´s fire you are. So, you have insulted a respected member of the Elynian court and lied to said person in just two sentences. That must be punished."

Dannyl gasped in feigned shock. "Oh my, what´s the verdict?"

Tayend of Tremmelin smiled cruelly with his full lips. "Eternal suffering at my hand." At that he ran his hand over Dannyl´s chest and gently twisted one of his nipples. Goosebumps rose on the magician´s skin and the scholar looked at him triumphantly.

"Hah, is that all you can do?" came the prompt reply delivered in a somewhat strained voice.

"Mhhhmm." Tayend lowered his head and grazed his teeth along Dannyl´s jaw and up to one of his earlobes. He bit him and Dannyl felt himself respond to that skillful taunting. Tayend, however, wasn´t finished. He continued his torment by running his lips down the magician´s neck and back to his nipples. He sucked one of them into his mouth and bit him again. Dannyl moaned and he felt his pleasure building up. The scholar withdrew his lips and Dannyl felt a pang of loss.

He heard a whisper at his right ear. "If I release you now, will you stay put and suffer through your punishment?" Dannyl nodded. "Promise?"

"Promise," the Ambassador rasped. The grip on his arms slackened and the weight of the other body was lifted off him. Fingertips tingled the skin on his sides. Warm air caressed his groin. A strand of hair tickled his right thigh and then he felt his pulsing need being enveloped by a warm, moist mouth.

"Oh, shit!" Dannyl gasped and in response Tayend flicked his tongue and let his hands accompany the stroking motions. Shivers of pleasure shot through Dannyl´s whole body. Without realising what he was doing he gripped the other man´s hair and started to thrust. A growl and even quicker movements were the answer to this. Soon the magician´s heart raced and blood thundered through his veins. He moaned louder and picked up the pace only to be urged on by even faster strokes. When he thought he´d explode the next few seconds Tayend suddenly stopped, leaving him panting and begging for more.

Brilliantly green eyes appeared before his face and the most seductive voice he had ever heard asked him just the right question. "Do you want me?"

"Yes, dammit, of course I want you, Tayend."

"Why?"

"Because you are ridiculously beautiful and alluring, you vain man, and because you have just made me feel things that would shock my mother into an early grave and because you are intelligent and sophisticated and loyal and because I fucking need you!"

A very flushed Tayend looked him deeply into the eyes and then ventured, "And I need you to fuck me. Now."

With a growl Dannyl lunged forward to comply. Two minutes later they both screamed their pleasure to the stars.

Dannyl hated that he had to leave, but he did so nevertheless. _Someday I will be able to hold him until he sleeps and wake up next to him in the morning_, he promised himself.


	8. The wrath of a Winar

**A/N: First of all, thank you all for staying with me and this story. It´s very encouraging to know you guys like it. Thanks to those who have faved the story and/or put it on story alert. I´d be even more happy if you could just drop by and leave a little review ;-) Even only to state you like it, it really, really is appreciated!**

**As you have realised I am not updating as quickly as I did in the beginning. I crave your indulgence in that matter. I have a lot to do in RL and as it is my poor, poor beta is sitting her exams and still wrestles with my chapters. So, a big thanks to the fabulous MoonMyst! I try to update twice a month at the moment. Let´s see if I manage to keep that up **

**But enough of that, hopefully enjoy the twisted thoughts of a certain slick-haired novive...**

CHAPTER 8

The wrath of a Winar

Regin was lying in his bed in the Novices´ Quarters. A cold calm had settled over him. Soothing thoughts of revenge in his head, he started to plan how to put the new information he had gathered at his parents´ house to use. A wild glee had caught him when he had managed to spy on his mother and Lady Daidra. If he was to be rejected, so be it. He would have his revenge.

He had played his part well. Like the errand son he had gone back and apologised for his overemotional reaction. He had been so overwhelmed by sadness and righteous fury, he had told his mother, that he had lost his countenance. He had even suffered through a formal apology to his father and Lord Garrell and – and this still galled him – Sirian. His mother had forgiven him, of course. There was never anything he could do that she wouldn´t wave away with one gesture of her hand. Yes, Isidra had taught him the difference between being fussed about and being truly seen and loved for one´s own sake.

He could not remember a single moment in which she had truly cared for what was in his head or heart. He was the youngest child and therefore he was being spoiled and that was that, he guessed. He could remember, though, that he had once tried to provoke her in order to see a genuine reaction in her just once. He had smashed her favourite set of crystal glasses. They had been an heirloom and very expensive. Isidra of Winar had ruffled his hair and told him to be more careful the next time. Her eyes, however, had been cold as stone. Why did she never shout at him? Why did she never truly look at him, through him, into him? Even his most desperate pleas for true interest were met with superficial attention. Not that he did not enjoy being spoiled a bit or being the centre of attention, far from that, but it would be so much better if he would be spoiled for being him and not just the youngest child. Honestly, how could he take any kind words seriously, when his mother never raised her voice or expressed displeasure apart from the occasional reminder of etiquette.

His father was a different case. He always shouted and criticised him, but never had kind words or praise for him. In his father´s books, one successful son sufficed and that post was taken by Sirian, the great merchant and perfect heir-to-be.

So, all in all, Regin mistrusted friendliness as much as he feared outright anger and hated being ignored. What he could best live with was blatant manipulation. That at least gave you an idea of what the other truly wanted.

And he was very good at manipulating people to his will. Yes, he had this whole group of novices trailing after him and listening to him, doing everything for him. He had Issle mooning over him. Still, he felt he did not truly have any friends. He was their leader and leaders did not have friends. Friends were meant to be on equal footing he had heard. Unfortunately the only one who had ever shown the potential of standing up to him – well, who had truly stood up to him – had been the slum girl. There were lines he just did not cross. Sonea was out of question, end of the discussion, thank you.

_Wonderful, just wonderful, there she is again_. Regin snorted disgusted and pulled his blanket up to his chin. _Get back to plotting, Reg._

So, what had he learned today that would be useful to him? He decided to relive the whole conversation he had overheard and then try to deduce from there. It had started after he had crept back to apologise.

_Regin was still simmering with silent fury when he made his way back to the grand dining room. He had been out of control, damn himself. Now he would have to apologise on top of having been shunned and betrayed. He had finally learned his lesson. He would never be able to make his parents know him, truly know him with all his fears and hopes and_...stop blubbering you fool, quite obviously no one is interested in you. _Regin sighed. He had hoped that his mother at least was truly caring for him under all that superficiality. So, he had to keep up his play. If they did not love him he would at least get as much out of them as possible. If they thought he´d just settle into the Guild quietly, earn his own money and be out of their lives, they were sorely mistaken. And if the opportunity offered itself, he might indulge himself with destroying some of their political schemes as long as this did not endanger their standing among the Houses or cost too much money. He wanted revenge for their neglecting him, not destroy his own future, after all._

_Had he known than that an opportunity such as that would offer itself to him that very evening he might have found it easier to go into the room and apologise. As it was, he dragged himself into it and suffered through the false attention of his mother, the disapproving stare of his father, the condescending smirk of his brother and, worst of all, the disappointed look on his guardian´s face. His apology to Garrell was the only one that was genuine. He rather liked his uncle. The Warrior cared for him, he was certain of this. He had always sided with him, had even stood up to the High Lord for him and they both shared a deep passion for the Warrior Skills. If Garrell was a bit surly and prejudiced towards others sometimes and enjoyed rubbing their own stupidity in their faces, so what? It was just a fairy tale that magicians relinquished their political interests when joining the Guild and therefore the constant rivalry between the Houses remained as did their bickering and bantering and scheming._

_Wanting to demonstrate his concern for his sister´s fate he asked how her husband had died. He was a merchant in Elyne, after all. How come he had been killed in an invasion of Kyralia? His father told him in a harsh voice that Liviana´s husband had been accompanying several wagons carrying his goods. He had wanted to meet a potential new customer. The Ichani had murdered all and taken the supplies and wagons. Since that had happened miles away from Imardin, word had reached them only two weeks ago. _

_Regin found that he pitied Liviana. He could not say he loved her, but he did not think she deserved to be widowed like that. Some of that pity quickly evaporated when his mother announced in a trembling voice that Liviana and her children would be arriving the next week._

Wonderful, just wonderful._ Regin had smiled thinly and told his mother how he was looking forward to be able to comfort his sister in these hard times. "Oh, sweety, I always knew you were a good boy. You´ll make up with Liviana, won´t you?"_

"_Of course, Mother."_ Not fucking likely.

_Then the young servant had returned and told his mother that her guest, Lady Daidra of Delvon, had arrived. Regin had been intrigued. What was the High Lord´s mother doing at the Winars'? As far as he knew, she had been visited by her eldest son and his wife this evening. It would no doubt be interesting to spy on them. So, seeing that Garrell was still deep in conversation with his father and brother, he had excused himself from his mother´s presence and had sneaked into her private rooms where he was sure she would receive her friend. Just as expected the two Ladies had entered not two minutes later. He hid behind one of the hidden doors in the panelling. He had had lots of practice in staying unnoticed in her rooms as a boy, always trying to figure out how to outdo his elder siblings by spying on her and them._

"_Daidra, I have to say you look absolutely dashing", his mother exclaimed when the Head of House Velan loosened her cloak and tossed it at the waiting maid, who withdrew quickly afterwards._

"_Vindo silks, my dear, vindo silks. It appears that my daughter-in-law hadn´t heard of them before." Isidra and Daidra shared a knowing smirk. Regin was puzzled. What had Vindo silks to do with Sonea and why were the two women grinning so smugly at the mention of it? He did not have to wait long for an explanation as Lady Daidra lounged herself into a poor imitation of Sonea´s light accent. "I am sorry, Lady Daidra. I would not know of this. I have never worn Vindo silks myself." The two noblewomen laughed cruelly. _

"_And then I replied, 'Oh, I am so sorry, my dear, how inconsiderate' and Akkarin did not even interfere."_

_Lady Daidra recounted every word that had been said, how she had played with the stupid slum girl and how she had held a tight leash on her son. Was she truly talking about the same High Lord, Regin knew? He did not like that guy, but subdued or reigned-in would not have been words he´d chosen to describe his Guildmaster. He nearly gasped out loud when Daidra mentioned hitting Sonea in the face. Even he had never dared threatening her physically without magic and certainly not on his own. It seemed that Lady Daidra was very sure that Sonea would have to keep quiet in spite of being married to one of the most powerful men in Imardin. Interesting._

"_You cannot imagine how good it felt to see that self-righteous bitch´s smile falter after I showed her her place. But enough of that, I think we are facing more difficulties then I would have expected."_

"_How so?"_

"_Well, first of all the slum girl isn´t pregnant, which in itself is a blessing to be sure, but which shows that Akkarin did not marry her out of a misplaced feeling of guilt after using her. I am afraid that he really cares for her."_

"_No."_

"_Yes, unfortunately. Which will make it harder or even impossible to talk him out of that ridiculous marriage. He is very headstrong and once he has his mind set on something, well... So, we will have to work on the slum girl to make her see reason."_

"_True, though from what I heard about her from Regin she is obnoxiously independent and rude. Have you figured out how to break her?"_

"_Not yet. It´s true. She has potential. If she wasn´t who she is I´d say I admire her strength. Currently I am thinking on compromising her in some way or make it seem as though Akkarin cheated on her. It is of utmost importance that she looses her composure in front of many witnesses and shows her low birth status. I think I can arrange that eventually."_

"_When will Liviana come in though?" Isidra of Winar asked a serious and greedy expression on her face._

_Regin felt the blood pound even quicker through his veins. Liviana? How was she fitting in that scheme?_

"_Do not fear, Isidra, I always keep my word. Both our families will profit from a union between Akkarin and Liviana. Liviana will be provided for and Akkarin´s standing with the Houses will be secured if he marries a woman of true pure, noble blood."_

_Both women raised their crystalline wineglasses in a morbid salute. After some silent moments Isidra faced the other woman with a challenging expression on her doll´s face. "And – what if Sonea refuses to let your son go?"_

_The eyes of the Head of House Velan turned icy-cold. Not a single flicker of doubt or remorse could be seen in them. Regin shuddered. He would not like to have this woman as an enemy._

"_Then, my dear, we will have to settle this the old-fashioned way. The streets aren´t safe these days anymore, don´t you agree?"_

"_Indeed. To the joining of our families!"_

"_To the joining of our families!"_

_The noise of the two glasses tinkling together left Regin sick in the pit of his stomach. Those two were planning to kill Sonea should it become necessary. He felt nauseated. As irritable and arrogant as Sonea was, she did not deserve this. She had saved Kyralia at the risk of her own life!_

_Regin smirked. Here was the perfect chance for him to get back at his family without endangering his heritage or the family name. So, she wanted to marry his sister off to the High Lord? At the cost of Sonea´s life even? Ambitious bitch. Well, he would find a way to prevent that. He would work against their attempts to make Sonea the nobles´ laughingstock. He would find a way to counter their schemes. _

Regin was very excited still. He was pulsing with exhilarating dizziness at the prospect of this latest challenge. The game was on. He would prove himself against two skilled players of the Game of Politics. He would be like a festering wound, painful and irritating, like a poisonous fume, slow and deadly, and like a hunting limek, dangerously quick and focused. Saving Sonea had nothing to do with his motives apart from the grudging admission that he did not want her dead. Helping her might, however, at last settle the debt he felt towards her after she had saved Kyralia. Then he might be free of her again. He did not like her surfacing in his thoughts so often.

Brilliant, he would be able to take revenge on his family and clear his head of the slum girl at the same time. He would need some thorough planning though. He would have to figure out what those two harridans planned and then tutor Sonea without her noticing that he was doing so. No easy feat at all.

Regin shuffled deeper into the blankets, savouring the warmth that spread through his whole body. His victory would be the perfect gift for his own graduation. He decided he would write a list of strategies he would have used, if he had wanted to take Sonea down himself. His mother was likely doing the same though he had the feeling that Daidra of Delvon was really the driving force behind this. However, he would not make the mistake to underestimate his mother. Many people, especially men, let themselves be fooled by her sweet doll´s outward appearance. Not him. She was as cold and manipulative as many men, and crueller than most.

He yawned hugely. Well, his plans would have to wait for the next day. He was truly tired now and he needed to be fully alert for the next day's lessons. Four months, four months and this would be over and he would finally be free to do as he pleased. He would walk through the halls and people would bow to him and would step aside. Yes, four months and he would become the great Warrior he was destined to become.

It was with these happy thoughts that Regin of Winar finally fell asleep.

TBMD TBMD TBMD TBMD TBMD TBMD TBMD TBMD TBMD

The early morning sun saw Dorrien hurrying back from the Baths to the Healers´ Quarters. He was and had always been an early riser and he liked the peaceful quietness of the Guild at that hour. He felt restless and torn. He wanted to go back to his village and help people along the way. Kariko and his allies might have caused many serious damages and wounds that a non-magical village Healer wouldn´t be able to treat. They needed a Guild magician out there. It was frustrating. The High Lord had ordered that all magicians had to remain in Imardin for the time being. All resources were needed in order to rebuild the City and teach and supervise the volunteers.

So, once again the Guild chose to help it´s own people, the Houses, instead of the common people. How could Sonea tolerate this? It was her husband who had given out this order, surely she must be angry with him?

If he was completely honest with himself, he had to admit that part of his irritation with the Guildmaster was still because Sonea had chosen him over himself. Lord, it had hurt to find her sleeping in his arms so peacefully that day. He had felt his heart break and wither when he had seen how those two looked at each other, how they could not stop touching each other, how the intimidating High Lord had been so gentle and considerate towards the woman they both loved.

Akkarin and he had never openly acknowledged their conflict. At that time, survival had been more important than his hurt pride. So he had done what he was best at – reassuring others and being the nice guy. He had not wanted to cause Sonea more distress than she already felt. Now, however, whenever he talked to her, touched her or even only saw her, his feelings would come crashing down on him with full force and he would hide and work himself to the limits of his strength at the Healers´ just for the few moments of exhausted release.

Oh, why couldn´t he be allowed to leave? He needed to put distance between himself and Sonea as soon as possible or he would go mad. Seeing how Rothen suffered with him did not lighten his mood either. His father, for once, could not help him cope with his pain.

He flinched, remembering the last night. He had almost lost control and kissed her then. He had let his fingers explore her skin. Bad mistake, dammit. He smirked, however, remembering how he had seen Akkarin approaching. Sonea had quite plainly assumed that he had not been aware of her husband before she had, but he had seen him coming nearer, because he had been watching her in his arms and in an act of childish petulance, he had remained locked in the embrace. And he was sure that Akkarin had known.

Had known, but not reacted. The reasonable part in Dorrien told him that Akkarin was a noble man and trusted his wife and as it was a member of his Guild and friend of said wife to behave in a befitting manner. The newly awakened, misgiving side of him sneered at his weakness for not confronting the High Lord about this condescending off-handed dismissal of his rival.

_Oh, come on_, Dorrien chided himself. _You may not like Akkarin for obvious reasons, but you know he is an honourable man. He would not slight you in this way._

Dorrien neared the side entrance to the round building of the Healers´ Quarters. He had volunteered to take over yet another shift in order to make himself scarce. He was overworking himself and he knew it. This was not helping him in the long run. He had to get over her. But in order for that to happen he needed to put that distance between them. But, he would _not_ go to Akkarin and beg him to be set free of the strict rules in order to avoid the other man´s wife with whom he was still deeply in love. There were limits even to his good will and unassumingness.

So he would keep on working and avoiding her. Yesterday should have taught him his lesson, shouldn´t it? With an exasperated sigh he plunged himself into the tasks of preparing the different salves and tinctures that he would need for his shift. Those that could afford the Guild Healers expected the best treatment. Lord, how he yearned for the stillness and even mistrust of his little village and its´ people. They needed him and quite frankly he felt far more comfortable in their midst than he did in the Guild. His ramshackle little cottage seemed like a haven of safety and respite to him. Well, maybe he could tell Rothen to speak for him. His father was a Higher Magician now, after all. And he would understand.

Having decided to speak to his father this evening Dorrien let himself float in the well-practiced motions of preparing for the first patients. His mind settled on the task granting him some moments of peace.

**A/N: Hey guys, did you get what happens with Regin here? ****I know I am giving him quite a twisted and complicated character, neither black nor white, an arse, but with strange feelings about honour and debt…hmmm please leave some thoughts! S-phil**


	9. A revelation

**A/N:**** Hello my dear readers **** Here is chappie 9 finally. I know, I know, I missed my self-imposed deadline. Nearly managed it though, so be nice and give it a chance anyway. *lol* I am really, really very happy that so many people have faved this story in these last three weeks. Thank you so much! Thanks again to my awesome beta MoonMyst! Reviews are very welcome, you know? Even to just say "Like it"...pluuueeeaaase, pretty please? ;-)**

**Now, see what secret will be reveiled****...have fun**

CHAPTER 9

A revelation

Sonea felt something tickling her face. She blinked her eyes open and found that the bright autumn sun caressed her cheeks. She sighed contentedly and stretched her sleepy limbs. An arm came up from behind her, gathering her in close. A deep, velvety voice whispered 'Good morning' in her right ear. She pressed her body even closer to Akkarin´s, cherishing the feel of his hard chest and strong arms.

"Morning. See this sun? It´s going to be a very fine day, don´t you think?"

"Hmmm."

"You could walk me to the spring in the afternoon."

"I could do that, but I really think you have some studying to do, Sonea. Your graduation is only four months away now. And though I am not your guardian anymore I want you to excel. Apart from that I will be at court today. The King has summoned me to discuss future dealings with Sachaka."

Sonea sniffed dissatisfied, but did not say anything. The disastrous visit to Akkarin´s mother had been one of the few occasions they had spent time together for longer than it took to eat or make love or go to sleep, because Akkarin was so involved with managing his court duties, rebuilding faith within the Guild and bribing the Houses into supporting the intended relationship with Sachaka, and even that had been of political interest and far from pleasant. Sonea knew that it was ungrateful and stupid to think so, but sometimes she missed their time together in the wasteland where they had shared every minute of the day together without interfering spit-licking courtiers and other nuisances. Of course, then they had been in constant danger of being killed, enslaved or eaten. So, she shouldn´t complain.

Her husband seemed to sense her mood though. He chuckled. "Believe me, I´d rather spend the afternoon with you at the spring, but I _am _the High Lord and my duties to the Guild come first."

Sonea sighed and turned around so that her forehead was nestled in the crook of his arm. "I know, but sometimes I wish I could just steal you and run away and make love to you the whole day long."

The High Lord chuckled again and pushed her away playfully. "You stealing me? First of all that is the man´s prerogative and secondly I find it distasteful that my wife should be so self-centred as to forget her duties to the Guild she is sworn to because of some basic need fulfilments."

"Basic need fulfilments? That was the most erotic thing you ever said to me, love", Sonea teased and her husband smiled at her. Smiled, but did not continue the banter. Sonea knew better than to try to sway him when he was in such a serious mood which he still was in most of the time even if he had changed considerably towards her since the wasteland and further since the marriage.

At first he had seemed to be awkward with having to share his private rooms and her infiltrating his whole life. There had been moments of misunderstanding during which Sonea had accused him of not wanting her anymore when he had kept his distance and sometimes had been cold and aloof and seemingly indifferent, but she had soon understood that it was hard for a man so elusive and used to be wrapped in secrets to suddenly have to accommodate someone and not hide his emotions. Still, she sometimes wished that he would loose some more of the tightness in his shoulders and be more at ease around her. She was well aware that there were depths of him she still did not truly understand. She guessed it was nearly impossible to truly comprehend the horrors he had witnessed and survived during his years as a Sachakan slave. Last night's openness had been due to their love-making and the discussion afterwards that seemed to have trigged all these dark thoughts. He had felt safe and connected to her by her questions about their family's future plans. Sonea smiled secretly. So, she still did not know him completely, but she thought she was making a good effort to catch more and more of the subtleties.

Presently she had to get up and out of bed. He was right. She needed to get to her classes and then start revising. To think that in four months time she would be a fully graduated magician – in addition to her role of black magician. Her heart started beating faster and she loosened Akkarin´s arms around her.

"I hate to admit it, but I think you are right. I have to make myself ready. Alchemy is the first thing in the morning and Lord Ralind does not appreciate lateness."

"Off with you then. I´ll see you in the evening."

Twenty minutes later, Sonea hurried over to the food hall for a quick breakfast. She did not need to eat there any longer, but sometimes she enjoyed the company of others apart from Takan´s. And since Akkarin would not be able to join her today, she decided to try her luck.

She was actually looking forward to today´s Alchemy lesson. They would be talking about manipulating glass. The moulding and heating of glass with magic required strength as well as skill. She liked a challenge.

When she arrived in the hall, she spotted Dannyl sitting at one of the still relatively empty tables. He looked a bit tired and yet his composure was tense. She wondered why that was the case considering that Dannyl was such an easy-going person normally. She also wondered where Dorrien was. She had not seen him since their last meeting and she was still worried about him. He did work so much these days and somehow she had the feeling that this was linked to her. She needed to talk to him, she decided. She selected two slices of bread, some fruits, a glass of milk and some cheese and went over to the silently brooding magician.

"Hello, dashing Dannyl, this time it´s brightening up the food hall?"

The Ambassador looked up at her, his gaze unfocused at first. He shook his head and yawned. After that his eyes were more alert. "Brightening what, Sonea?"

"Oh dear, if you can´t even recall your own jokes anymore it must be really bad." Sonea sat in the bench opposite him and raised a questioning eyebrow. "So why are you in trouble?"

A flicker of challenge rose in his eyes. "You know, you sound just like your guardian."

"Indeed? Well, that´s not the worst thing, is it? Or would you like me to do a little Fergun?"

Dannyl chuckled. "Don´t you dare, I was planning to keep my breakfast inside of me."

"Ewww, that´s not really appetising, Dannyl. Anyway, why do you look so tired? Having had a rough night?"

The older magician blushed and averted his gaze. Sonea gasped. He had blushed, he had actually blushed. She had to know what that was about. She had seen Cery and Harrin and the other boys of the gang look like this often enough. A woman was involved.

"Dannyl," she asked innocently, "pray tell, who is the lucky lady then?"

The purple-robed magician tried to look surprised. "Lady? Sonea, what are you talking about?"

"Or lucky man", she teased referring to the latest rumours. "I have heard that your assistant is quite a capturing young man."

He flinched at that and Sonea felt her heartbeat accelerate. She had hit a nerve. Their eyes met and an understanding passed between them. This time the Ambassador held her gaze. She swallowed, well aware of how much trust Dannyl had to put in her to let her know the truth. Maybe he had just been taken off-guard, but here it was. An awkward silence descended between them, neither knowing what to say.

Dannyl made to stand up, a resigned expression on his face, but Sonea leaned forward and stopped him with a hand on his arm. Then she put a girly whimper on her face and giggled. Dannyl looked at her in a perplexed manner but relaxed slightly.

Sonea battered her eyelashes at him. "So, is he as handsome as they say? I´ll have to get to know him to see whether he is good enough for you. I am a kind of younger sister after all, right? Thus it is my task to make myself a nuisance and ruin your reputation with him by telling him embarrassing stories about you."

An expression of such genuine gratitude settled on Dannyl´s features that Sonea could not help but reach over the table again and hug him awkwardly. Then she hit him on the shoulder. "Oh really, Dannyl, you did not think you could scare me off that easily, did you?"

Dannyl took her hand and squeezed. "No, Sonea, of all people I thought that you might look upon this with tolerance." He smiled at her, but then his expression grew solem again. "However, I fear that not many other magicians will be as lenient with this."

"Nonsense, they will have to –"

"Sonea, I have not even told Rothen about this."

"What? But, Dannyl, Rothen would never –"

"I know, I know. It´s not really rejection I fear. I guess, he would come to accept it, but I think he suffered enough for both our sakes to burden him with this on top of it all. He´d be subjected to endless sneers and ridicule. I cannot wish that upon him."

"Dannyl, Rothen wouldn´t mind, as you very well know." The Ambassador tried to interrupt her, but she held up a hand to stop him and he fell silent again. "He wouldn´t, but that is not what I wanted to emphasise. I think there is no better time for scandal than the time of scandal. I mean, look at it this way, we have a black magician as High Lord, we have fought a war and half the City is destroyed. Said High Lord married a slum girl of all people and Kyralia is trying to establish friendly relationships with Sachaka. Sachaka! The fact that you are, I mean, eh..." She paused then locked her eyes on his and continued. "The fact that you are a lad will be a small shock compared to this."

Dannyl was still sceptical. He frowned deeply and sighed.

"Think, Dannyl, think. You might even become a kind of hero for people with, eh, your inclination."

"I don´t know."

"You nobles are so uptight and prudish, really, it´s a shame. At least you are on the surface. Dannyl, why exactly do you think those young men serve at the bolhouses? For all the randy noblewomen?"

"Sonea!"

"What?"

"Language!"

"Randy, bitchy, horny, squishy, delicious, voluptuous –" At that, Dannyl´s hand clamped over her mouth and stopped her from continuing this list. She could tell that he wanted to scowl at her sternly, but it was ruined by the amused twinkle in his eyes.

"You really should not know about such places and you should _not _know such words."

Sonea rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly. Dannyl chuckled and released her. "A hero, eh?"

"Yes, a hero. I mean, you would not have to tell them immediately, but I guess it would be helpful if you were to be seen in public first. Get people used to seeing you together, only not together together, you know? This will lessen the novelty with time and soften the sharp edges of vicious rumours a bit. You might drop hints here and there, non-committing hints that will make people talk about you and speculate. There will be enough people then who will be more concerned about being proven right than about the fact that you two are truly involved. There will be fights about getting you invitations to lure the truth out of you and that will give you a position of power. Never cease to forget that nobles are rumour-mongers and would die for a tasty chunk of scandal. If you play your cards right you will get out with the truth quite unscathed."

Dannyl looked at her with open-mouthed astonishment and then he started to laugh. He laughed out loudly, tears in his eyes. "Sonea, once again you scare me. You truly are the High Lord´s wife aren´t you? And I can see that your opinion about 'the nobles' hasn´t changed a bit even in spite of you being one yourself now."

"Bah, only through marriage. I am not tainted."

"Of course not. Speaking of the High Lord, what mood was he in this morning?"

Sonea frowned at that seeming non-sequitur. "I beg your pardon?"

"Well, I have a meeting with him this morning and I would rather he be in a good mood since I wanted to ask him to let me go back to Elyne. For obvious reasons."

"You will tell him?"

"What, no of course not, no offense, but your husband isn´t one of the first persons I would choose to reveal my secrets to."

"None taken, but Dannyl as I understand it, there won´t be a great chance of him letting you go. Even we novices have to help with the rebuilding while being only four months away from graduation. The City is still in a rather dismal state after all. I do understand your situation, but somehow I even wish for Akkarin to say no. I´d miss you and I think that my theory has some value. You should put it to the test not run from it."

Dannyl sighed heavily. "It´s good to know that your regard for me hasn´t changed knowing about my, eh, infatuation. However I do not share your youthful optimism. They Guild would never accept lads in their midst."

"As they would never allow a black magician to lead them or allow a slum girl in or allow the High Lord to marry said slum girl, who happens to be the second black magician?"

The Ambassador chuckled and smiled at her warmly. "Nothing ever dampens your spirits, does it?"

Sonea shook her head enigmatically. "Nope, Ambassador. You, however, should brighten up a bit. You´re giving this room an undeserved chill and gloom. I wonder why it isn´t snowing yet."

Suddenly a mischievous grin appeared on Dannyl´s face and soon snowflakes danced in the air. Sonea gasped and then understood. "That is a piece of impressive magic. Illusion?"

"Yes. Shall I show you how to do it?"

"Hmm, maybe later. I thought you were being expected?"

Dannyl winced then glared at her. "Alright, alright, no delaying anymore. See you later."

"Good luck, dashing Dannyl."

"Don´t even get used to that."

"I might."

"Only with dire consequences."

"We´ll see."

"Off to class, novice."

"Of course, my Lord."

Smiling, Dannyl left the room to meet her husband. She hoped that their little banter had brightened him up a bit. She knew that though he tried to hide it, he was still intimidated by Akkarin. Some habits seemed to die hard. Then again she had spent a lot of time with her husband and had gotten glimpses of his softer nature, a privilege only Lorlen had shared. It was different for the other magicians.

Biting into her first slice of bread she considered what she had learned and how she had reacted to it. So, Dannyl loved men, or rather a certain man. She took a few moments to search herself and feel for any misgiving feelings or even disgust but she found none and was proud and relieved about that. Nothing had changed about who Dannyl was, had it? His sexual inclination certainly didn´t have anything to do with him being a fierce and loyal friend and talented magician. She felt curiosity nagging at her though. Who was that man who, after years of denial and hurtful memories, had made Dannyl feel and admit to it? This Tayend of Tremmelin had to be rather special. She decided that she would hold true to her words and would get to know him.

Sonea let her mind wander after that and ate her breakfast oblivious to the slowly filling room. After she had finished she stretched once again and walked slowly to the classroom for her Alchemy lesson.

TBMD TBMD TBMD

_I told her, I more or less told her. _Dannyl still couldn´t understand his own audacity. That moment when he had looked into Sonea´s honest and bright, dark eyes, the need to finally let someone know - to stop lying - had been overwhelming. His inner voice had told him that he could trust her. She would be tolerant, she would accept. Nevertheless, when she had not immediately known how to react, he had tried to flee the imminent disapproval. As self-confident and strong as he might act as Ambassador these days he still was a coward concerning his relationship with Tayend. And he detested himself for this. He should have learned not to care about the others, shouldn´t he? And did he actually believe that Akkarin would expel him from the Guild, he, a black magician who had broken hundreds of Guild rules?

_You, my friend, are pathetic, _he chided himself. If you can fuck him you should be able to openly be with him. Dannyl´s thoughts ran down a well-practiced road from there on. He told himself how he was unworthy of such an intelligent and beautiful companion and loyal friend. How he was a coward and lecherous beast. How he abused Tayend´s trust and Rothen´s. By not telling, by telling, by being with him, by not being with him enough, by sleeping with him, by not staying afterwards...

Sonea´s words had shattered him more than he cared to admit to himself right now. But, she was right, wasn´t she? What better time for scandal than the time of scandal. He only had to pack up the damn courage and tell Rothen. And maybe he should not ask Akkarin to let them return to Elyne? No, that was suicide. If they could return he would be able to plan carefully how to reveal the truth, he surely need not do it all now to prove himself worthy, right?

A somewhat shaken Dannyl reached the High Lord´s residence that glowed in the morning sun. It still looked forbidden and unwelcoming in Dannyl´s eyes. He took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind before knocking. He had only brushed his knuckles against the door when it swung inwards revealing the luxurious guest room. Dannyl stepped inside and bowed to the man who sat in one of the armchairs, his black robes a stark contrast to the warm colours of the velvet lining.

"Good morning, High Lord."

The High Lord waved a long-fingered hand at a chair near his and Dannyl felt himself obey this powerful gesture without thought. Akkarin had always possessed this skill. He shivered and seated himself facing his Guildmaster.

"Good morning, Ambassador. You asked to speak to me and since I unfortunately was delayed yesterday, I appreciate that you agreed to meet me at this early hour."

"Thank you, High Lord, for your time." He waited. Akkarin fixed him with a thoughtful gaze, his dark eyes unsettlingly intense. Panic rippled through Dannyl at the realisation that he might be reading his surface thoughts. This, however, did not seem to be the case as shortly after, the Black Magician spoke again.

"So, Ambassador, how may I be of assistance?"

Dannyl drew in a sharp breath and recalled all the arguments he had prepared for this meeting. He had even rehearsed his first few phrases. Looking into the dark eyes of the Guildleader which were fixed on him, exuding benign interest and hidden power, however, he suddenly could not help asking himself how Tayend had reacted to this handsome man when he had assisted him all those years ago. He never had seen the High Lord in this light, but his talk with Sonea earlier had not only made Akkarin all the more human, but also brought a new predicament to surface. A flash of jealousy caught him unawares. Compared to this man, he was plain and rather unrefined, he knew. He wasn´t as talented and surely could not pull off such a commanding air and –.

"Dannyl?"

The Alchemist flinched at the unexpected use of his given name and felt warmth spread over his features. Wonderful, he was making a wonderful mess out of this. "I do apologise, High Lord. I found myself wondering if you recall meeting Tayend of Tremmelin? When you, eh, visited the Library in Elyne?" _How astute, Dannyl. After having shown him that you can´t keep your thoughts together, you have now used your first answer to remind him that you investigated his dark past. Brilliant. _

The High Lord did not seem to mind, however. His lips twitched at the left corner, pulling his mouth into a kind of weird half-smile. So he had managed to amuse him at least. "Of course I remember this meeting. He was very dedicated and enthusiastic about his task. Also, he was kind of a rarity working in the Library at such a young age and against the express wishes of his family. I hear he has accompanied you here? How is he these days?"

"Fine, fine, thanks for asking. Tayend stays with my family. He has been a great help and unwavering companion in our quest to –" He stopped realising that he was once again pointing at the somewhat delicate matter of their research.

"– gain knowledge?" Akkarin ended the sentence for him, a hint of his amusement showing in his tone.

"Yes, that and in installing myself in Capia and throughout my visits with the Dems."

"I would like to meet him again. Do you think you could arrange that for the next Freeday?"

"Certainly, High Lord." He wanted to see him. _Why?_

"Now, Ambassador, I think you came here with a request?" His tone was still mild, but the subtle reproach in his words was enough to make Dannyl put forward his wish.

"I was wondering whether it would be possible for Tayend of Tremmelin and I to return to our duty in Elyne. I know that there are limited resources here, but I think it is of equal importance to appease the Elynian court and assure them of our continued interest in their safety and good connections."

"You put forth valid points, Ambassador, but at the current time I cannot allow you to leave Imardin."

"The Elynians are fickle and easily offended, High Lord. They might interpret our absence, the absence of any Guild magician in Capia, as disinterest or even of slighting them. I don´t think –"

"I do understand your concerns, Ambassador, and I thank you for sharing them with me, however, as I said, I am currently not at liberty to grant you permission to leave."

"But –"

"Rest assured that I will inform you immediately should my judgement on this matter change." Akkarin´s tone was now clearly cool, commanding and brooking-no-nonsense-like. Dannyl sighed inwardly and doing what he had to, he acquiesced.

"I see. Might I inquire as to why I am not allowed to leave then? Surely one magician won´t make such a great difference in rebuilding the City?"

"I cannot answer this question, Ambassador." Since Dannyl did not manage to hide his disappointment completely the High Lord added, "I promise I will tell you as soon as I see fit to send you back."

"Thank you, High Lord."

"I regret that I could not tell you otherwise, Dannyl. Now, is there something else you wanted to talk with me about?" Recognising a dismissal where there was one the purple-robed magician shook his head and stood up. He bowed to the Guildleader once again.

"Thank you, High Lord."

"Good day to you, Ambassador."

"Good day to you, High Lord."

Dannyl walked out of the residence shivering from a cold that wasn´t due to the fresh morning air alone. It was as he had feared. He would be stuck in Imardin for the time being. Akkarin had not even decided to tell him why. A silent anger rose in his chest. He might at least have explained why he had denied his request so brusquely. The High Lord had not even let him discuss this properly. He had made him feel like a daft child. And he had been amused. Amused that Dannyl asked something he knew he would deny anyway? The anger grew. How dare he treat him like this, he earned the respect to at least be listened to and not be smirked at.

He had so wanted to tell Tayend that their silent suffering would be over soon, that they would be able to return to Elyne and privacy. Now they would be forced to stay and keep up pretence. Wouldn´t they?


	10. Different kinds of lessons

A/N: Hey there, here it is, chappie 10. It was really, really difficult to write...let´s see what you make of it! I hope you´ll get what Regin tries to do here...and that it´s not unbelievable or OOC. I am not that sure about this one, so reviews are very, very welcome.

MoonMyst, thanks for your beta-magic once again

BTW, a lot of people faved 'The Black Magicians´Fate`and the sequel in these last few weeks! Thanks *blush* I feel honoured!

AND, check out my forum topic: Funny Moments in TBM-Trilogy, it will be fun!

Hugs

s-phil

Go, Regin, go!

CHAPTER 10

Different kinds of lessons

Sonea felt awkward when Regin settled in the seat next to her − she still wasn´t used to him. She certainly wasn´t prepared for what happened then. Lord Ralind had not entered yet, so the novices were free to speak amongst each other. Regin suddenly leaned over and whispered in her ear. It took her a moment to understand what he was saying, because she was so shocked at this nearly intimate contact.

"So, what do you say?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, will you come?"

In some hidden recess of her mind she dug up some of the words he had said. Tea, select few, Regin´s Rooms. Somehow those simple words still did not produce any coherent thoughts in her head or offered any tangible meaning. Sonea looked at him the confusion and maybe even mistrust showing in her face.

"Sonea, it´s only an invitation to a tea party. I promised to make it up to you and a Winar always honours his vows."

Sonea´s head started spinning even more. So, she had heard him right. Well, he had been behaving decently in the last few weeks. Then again, this was Regin. Could she trust him? He never did anything without some hidden motivation. He was cunning and sly. And what exactly did he mean by select few? This sounded too much like House-pride in her ears. And why would he include her in this circle of people deigned worthy to be in his presence? She was not a coward, if necessary she could pin each and everyone of them to the wall with her magic. She was curious. However, all her inner instincts warned her not to fall for this trap. She wanted to find out what Regin was playing at, but was it worth the risk? Just because she perceived a change in him and found she respected his role in the war did not mean that he would not try to re-establish his 'superiority' by some foolish prank, did it?

She narrowed her eyes at the other novice. "A tea party, Regin? Why would I want to join you and your friends." She put a little emphasis on the last word showing him how she regarded his companions to be more of a faithful bunch of dogs trailing after him than what she would consider a true friend, such as her Cery for example. Also she planned to test the waters by this little jibe. Let him swallow this one and see how he reacted to it. For some brief seconds his face clouded over and he seemed to ready himself for some snide retort. With a visible effort he then fought back a narrow smile onto his face.

"There is no need for insults, Sonea. I merely wish to get to know you better."

"Why, Regin, I am touched. Here I thought you knew all that was important already. I am the meddling, worthless slum girl after all. I was under the impression that the circumstances of my birth had sufficed before."

Regin actually flinched and seemed to change tactic. He deliberately looked into her eyes and held them. Then he drew in a deep breath and released it again. "Sonea, I´ll apologise again, if need be. I... I was certainly wrong in treating you like I did prior to the war. However –"

Sonea snorted derisively and turned away. She didn´t need to hear his petty excuses. He had judged her simply by her lower birth and treated her accordingly. That was unforgivably ignorant and rude. A hand closed around her arm and turned her back.

"Unhand me this instant, Regin, or I swear –"

He held up his hands and sighed. "Sonea, will you let me finish a sentence before ripping out my guts, please. This is kind of impolite, you know, interrupting people." Sonea felt anger surge into her. She flashed a very dark look at the other novice imagining Akkarin doing this. She seemed to have given a fairly good imitation as the blond-haired young man lowered his eyes.

"You´re not making that any easier for me, are you?" he whispered barely audible. "Well, maybe I was wrong to presume. I shouldn´t have...well, no matter. Sorry for bothering you. You have every right to distrust me, I guess." With that Regin turned away and looked down at his hand, a chagrined expression on his handsome features.

Sonea waited and stole some glances at him from under her lowered lashes. His distress appeared to be genuine, but you never knew with Regin. His first smile at her had appeared to be genuine, too, after all. Still that had been nearly five years and most especially a war ago, maybe he had changed? Why am I feeling guilty for treating him like he deserves? Ah, but that was the rub, wasn´t it? Didn´t she make the very same mistake she was accusing him of? Treating him like an enemy without really trying to find out who he was or who he had become? She had been taught that people deserved second chances and that it was the right thing to access them by their deeds rather than their words.

This, however, was exactly where the problem arose. Regin had surely conducted himself miserably towards her before the war. However, during the fight he had been heroic and courageous. And afterwards? Afterwards he had been faithful to his words indeed. Could one be changed this much through what they had lived through? Of course, look at yourself! You were the one who wanted to end her life...you of all people should know the great impact war can have. There, her conscience seemed to have decided that she was to do the reckless thing.

She turned to Regin and pretending they hadn´t been uncomfortably silent the last five minutes she said, "Well, yes, I guess."

Regin stared at her uncomprehendingly. "I beg your pardon?"

"Well, yes, I am going to come to this meeting."

At that his face lit up and he smiled at her and even went so far as to incline his head in this noble-greets-noble fashion. "This is a great pleasure indeed that you will grace my rooms with your presence tonight."

Ok, this was definitely overdone. Was he out of his mind? Surely he didn´t believe she would fall for such slick words or expect them from him? She raised her eyebrow in a near perfect imitation of her husband. And the blond boy chuckled.

"Sorry, Sonea, that is what Nobles say when such an invitation is extended, you should get used to it. Actually, your response should be something like 'The pleasure is all mine and it is you who grace me with this kind invitation' Oh and you can add my Lord or my Lady if you wish."

"Yes, well, thanks for this lecture, Regin. So, when will I be expected?"

"Will five o´clock in the afternoon be agreeable with you?"

"Yes."

"Five o´clock will be perfectly agreeable, thank you."

"Regin!"

"Sonea?"

"You do not need to repeat my replies back at me all the time. I think we have already agreed that five o´clock will be when this little meeting of yours will take place. So stop being an impertinent jerk for a moment so that I don´t regret my decision after only ten seconds."

"Tea party."

"Whatever."

At that moment Lord Ralind swept into the room and saved them from further talk. The Alchemist was beaming at his class, excitement oozing of him as he leaned against the desk in front of the class.

"Novices, the High Lord has decided that we as the most advanced class will take part in the rebuilding of the City. This is a great honour and equally grave challenge. I expect each and everyone of you to put the greatest effort in learning the necessary skills and conducting yourselves favourably in public. I will not tolerate accidents or even mishaps due to clumsiness or foolishness, do you understand?"

Sonea frowned. Akkarin had not told her about this beforehand. It galled her that he did not share information like this with her. This was not highly sensitive information either, so she had to assume that he just hadn´t thought about telling her or had not thought it important enough. Well, it would not help to fret about this now, but she decided to talk to him about it later. Along with the other novices she echoed "Yes, my Lord."

"Good. Now, the next hour will be dedicated to applying what you have learned from books into practice. The moulding of glass is very complicated and requires utmost concentration and dedication. Glass is very valuable –" And here the Alchemist paused for dramatic effect and let his piercing gaze wander over each of the novices. "As such, I expect you to pay very close attention to my demonstration."

Sonea thought that if Lord Ralind used any more superlatives and cautious words she would be tempted to blow up her sample just to annoy him, but quickly realised how childish these thoughts really were. When the magician went to a shelf at the far end of the room to retrieve the glass-samples Regin smirked and leaned over.

"I am going to blow up my sample if he goes on like that."

Sonea looked at him, taken aback. This had come far too close for her liking. She immediately put up her stern and reprimanding face. "Oh please, Regin. That is a very immature idea, don´t you agree? But of course if you should mess up, your family would not be bothered too much by providing a replacement."

Regin´s face clouded over. However, to Sonea´s immense annoyance he remained calm. "Why do you have to misunderstand everything I say, Sonea? I was just trying to joke, you know? I am well aware that glass is very valuable, even for my family. By the way, if you decide to insult a noble, especially his family, at least say something witty. If it is considered an intelligent jibe you might even get appreciation for it."

"You are doing it again!"

"I do apologise most sincerely. Would you enlighten me as to what exactly I am 'doing again'?"

"Well, talking about nobles. I am not interested in them, really."

"Is that so? Ah, well, seems it´s just a habit of mine."

Sonea´s retort was interrupted by the footsteps of the Alchemist who carefully levitated a box full of glass cubes in front of him. He pulled one of the samples out of the box and faced the class again.

"Now, about the moulding of glass. First you will familiarise yourself with the texture and structure of this material. Close your eyes and concentrate on the material in my hand and then you do this." Lord Ralind projected a series of complicated steps into their heads. He let them see and feel his own perception of the process thereby enabling them to follow his instructions later. With their eyes closed the novices witnessed through their teacher´s eyes how the glass cube suddenly took on a greater heat and slowly started to melt. The Alchemist let the material revolve around itself in lazy circles thus creating a ball of molten glass. Then he slowly added some spins and turns and the material began to stretch. Sonea was fascinated. This was very advanced magic and required a lot of concentration. It reminded her of the creating of blood gems. She smiled. She would do well, she was certain of that. She realised that Lord Ralind never ceased to heat the glass during the process of forming it. He coaxed it into a flat and oval form by continually spinning and stretching and heating it. After about ten minutes the magician had created a flat disc of glass the width of a dinner plate.

—Now pay attention to the cooling process. It is important not to hurry this last step or the glass will break or split and such damage cannot be repaired again.

The Alchemist continued to work the glass, this time not heating it, but weaving flows of air and water around it. Sonea noticed that he kept it rotating until only the slightest glow remained in the glass. Then he let it hover in the air and seconds later the glass was completely smooth and cool. "Open your eyes."

The novices obeyed and found themselves looking at the approximation of a round glass window. Sonea was impressed. There was not a single flaw in the material. Lord Ralind definitely knew what he was doing. Excited murmurs rose. It seemed that she was not the only one to appreciate the work of precise magic.

"Now, it´s your turn. Please come forward and take one piece of glass each. I want you to pay very close attention. No one starts the moulding process before I say so without suffering the dearest consequences. Understood?"

The novices formed a line in front of the box of glass cubes. Regin had reached the desk first and already turned around when Sonea made to stand at the end of the queue. "Allow me." The blond magician smiled at her and handed her a glass cube.

Sonea looked down at the piece of glass in her hand. In the past she would have expected him to have tampered with the material so that she would not be able to perform correctly. The habit of checking for hidden traps with him was hard to break, especially today, since he seemed so determined to push his newfound friendliness on her.

Regin had seen her hesitation it seemed. He pouted. "Don´t you trust me?"

She wouldn´t deign this with an answer. She simply raised her eyebrow again, but accepted the glass cube and went back to their seats. She heard a low chuckle from behind her. Regin actually had a very nice laugh she thought, but immediately pushed that thought aside. It would not do to drop defences that easily.

"Has everyone got their materials? Yes? Progress!"

The next hour, Sonea´s whole attention was focused on the challenge at hand. She realised that this process was even more demanding than the making of the blood gems. It needed less magical power, but it was more intricate and complicated. Sweat started to appear on more than one forehead. About forty minutes into the lesson Sonea was the first to accomplish a perfectly shaped imitation of the glass window the teacher had created.

"Well done, Sonea, well done." She glowed with pride. Lord Ralind did not praise lightly. As expected, Regin followed soon after. They were the most talented and strongest magicians in this class after all. One after the other their classmates finished their works. Not all were flawless, but all in all the Alchemist seemed to be satisfied with the class´s performance. He walked through the aisles and looked at the different pieces of moulded glass then he returned to the front of the room.

"Novices, I will now appoint each of you to different tasks. Only those who have managed to mould their glass adequately will be allowed to work with this material. The others will work on stones and wood. Sonea, Regin you will work together with Lord Balkan at the House of Family Rihan. Potil, Issle you will accompany Lady Elania..."

Lord Ralind continued to name pairs of novices and their tasks. Sonea, however, did not listen. Great, she had had to be stuck with Regin for the rest of the morning and maybe even afternoon. Bad luck. She watched Regin, but if he thought along the same lines he did not let anything show. He simply sat there and looked attentive. Sonea turned away and missed the self-satisfied smirk on Regin´s face.

"...so, now that you have all been appointed to your tasks I would ask you to go down to the entrance of the Guild. The other magicians will be waiting there for you. Do not dawdle."

Soon after, Regin and Sonea stood next to Lord Balkan, who did not look surprised about the fact that these two novices had been selected to work with him on the new glass windows of Family Rihan. "Come along", he grumbled, and the three magicians set off to the destroyed parts of the City.

~TBMD ~

Lord Balkan was having one of those overly high-scheduled weeks. Apart from staying on as Head of his Warriors he had been appointed the task to work with Lord Senfel in order to find, enlist and train the volunteers the Thief Ceryni had promised.

This young man had been a surprise. After his courageous and maybe reckless involvement in bringing Akkarin back to power Balkan had gotten to know him as a resourceful, respectful and yet very independent working partner. However, there was a dark and haunted look in his eyes sometimes and a steely determination that showed that this boy-man had grown up in circumstances that had not spoiled him – far from it. This boy – no, man really - knew how to survive and how to fight and had no qualms using every convenient method. This did not mean, however, that he was disloyal or immoral. Quite the opposite, Ceryni of the Thieves had a very fine sense of honour.

Lord Senfel, now this man had been the second surprise. If Balkan had had expected a kind of worn-down, repentant old man he would have been sorely mistaken, he knew. So he hadn´t. Then again, he certainly had not imagined meeting a magician who had the audacity to refer to him as 'boy'. With the resourceful stubbornness of old people, Lord Senfel had insisted on referring to him that way. Balkan had growled under his breath. He was certain that Senfel had addressed Akkarin with the utmost respect, title and all. Apart from that Senfel had proven to be very helpful. He was the perfect messenger, joining both the Magicians´world and that of the Thieves. Still they had not gotten as far with their selecting as he would have liked. The High Lord expected him to start training the next week. He hoped once Akkarin returned from court he would bring good news, but doubted it.

Sonea, Regin and Lord Balkan were nearing the destroyed part of the City. House Rihan had been one of the most magically enhanced buildings in the Inner Circle and had been laid to dust early in the battle. They came to a street that was blocked by large chunks of stone and wood. "We have to clear the street so that the helpers will be able to pass with their wagons", he ordered.

The two novices obeyed immediately. Regin stepped forward, but was not fast enough. Sonea had already started to move large parts of the obstruction to the side.

Balkan smiled indulgently. So, these two still had not solved their quarrels, had they? They were still trying to outdo each other. Well, good for him. He needed two disciplined minds for the task of creating the new glass windows for Family Rihan. They were direct family to the King, after all. He stepped through the gap the novices had created and nearly stumbled over a small rock when Regin spoke.

"Sonea, I must say that I am very impressed with your proficiency. I have never seen any novice using his - or her – magic that accurately. You managed to use precisely the amount of energy needed for the task without wasting any for show. I bow my head to that display of skill."

Lord Balkan frowned and watched the two brown-clad magicians from under his lowered eyelashes. Did the young Winar try to taunt the High Lord´s wife? If so, was he expected to intervene? Or would that be seen as a slight to Sonea, assuming she would not be able to defend herself? His eyes widened as he took in Regin´s face. He was looking at Sonea with an open and genuine expression. Balkan could not detect any insincerity. He knew, however, that this boy was most skilled at lying to your face. That did not change the fact that he was trying to be friendly, though. What was Regin of Winar playing at? And how would Sonea react? Balkan shifted his attention to the girl – young woman – and found a fleeting succession of emotions cross her face. First shock, then the predictable fury, then – after seeing the expression on Regin´s face – confusion and then a tentative smile.

A smile? Sonea, the slum girl had just smiled at Regin, the noble show-off? What on earth was going on here?

"Regin, you´re laying it on a bit thick again. I already told you I am not interested in this stilted noble-like flattering."

Again? Regin had flattered her before?

"That was not a compliment, Sonea. I merely stated a fact. 'Your hair shines like the waves of black silk in the morning sun', that would be a compliment."

"Wha...?"

"As for talking like that, I already told you that is how I speak and you should get used to it."

At that, the High Lord´s wife rolled her eyes in a very undignified manner and proceeded to Balkan´s side. "My Lord, where is the house of Family Rihan located?"

Lord Balkan pointed down the street. "Down there on the left, Sonea." She nodded and headed in that direction. Balkan turned and saw Regin smiling, looking at her retreating back. When he realised that Balkan was watching him he quickly averted his eyes and looked down, but not before the older magician spotted a patch of red suffusing his cheeks. That was getting more and more interesting.

Balkan decided to keep an eye on this recent development. Maybe he should tell the High Lord about this? No, he had not really witnessed anything untoward or dangerous, had he? It was just a feeling that Regin was up to something. He could not disturb the High Lord just because he had a feeling. "Well, Regin? Are you going to stand there all day or shall we proceed?"

"Yes, my Lord. I apologise." Lord Balkan nodded and both men followed the tracks Sonea had left in the dust.

Yes, this was going to be a very interesting morning. Lord Balkan´s mood lightened a bit.


	11. Promises made

**AN: Here we are finally. I can hear you saying- was about time, mate ;-) Now, I hope this chapter was worth the wait. It is a very political one and I have to say it was the most difficult for me so far. I´d like your opinions on how the tension between the different men comes across, the game of politics… **

**So, R&R please! Hugs to my awesome beta moonmyst, poor dear, having to deal with my ramblings ;-)**

CHAPTER 11

Promises made

The servant´s voice echoed clearly from the high ceiling of the court room as he announced the arrival of the High Lord. "Lord Akkarin of Family Delvon, House Velan, High Lord of the Magicians´Guild of Kyralia, Your Majesty."

"Ah, Akkarin, come in", the young ruler greeted the tall, black-haired man. The High Lord approached the King and his advisors and bowed.

"Sire." He remained in this posture until the King waved him to the seat next to him indicating that he should settle down. Both men had been less formal before his exile, but Akkarin had decided it would be wisest not to presume, but show the King that he accepted his superiority and act according to the rules. So far Merin had not commented on his changed behaviour and therefore he assumed that the King appreciated the gesture and maybe even saw fit that the other man 'punished' himself like this.

Akkarin sighed inwardly. The wasteland had been brutal but simple. Now he was once again back in the equally brutal and poisonous but anything but simple game of politics. He had done right not to take the King´s jovial behaviour during his election as a given. Yes, he had betrayed that man and royal blood never forgave easily even if or maybe especially when a friendship had been involved.

Yes, even if unvoiced both men knew that if there had been an alternative Akkarin would never have regained his former post. The King trusted him to fulfil his role, nothing more and nothing less. Sonea had been irrelevant to the King as a person. He had deemed the risk to have both black magicians under his direct command less of a threat than having them oppose him and out of control outside the confinements of the Guild and its regulations. Therefore he had agreed to Akkarin´s demand. But now, the pardoned magician had to prove his worth – prove it or suffer dire consequences. Oh, the King could not truly harm him personally, of course, but he had reign over the Guild and the Nobles and if Akkarin wanted to succeed in what he had made his life´s task, he needed his continued support.

The King fixed him with a green-eyed thoughtful stare, his hand absentmindedly stroking his reddish beard. Akkarin held his gaze and waited. After nearly three minutes Merin nodded and favoured him with a small, knowing smile.

"Well, Akkarin, I hope I find you well?"

"Indeed, Your Majesty, thank you."

"And your wife, she is in good health, too?"

"Yes, thank you for asking, Sire."

"I´ve heared that you were invited by your... eh, by Lady Daidra?"

Akkarin stiffened slightly, but did not let that show. Outwardly he appeared to be just as relaxed and serene as always. This slip of tongue had been a well-placed jibe to test his reaction and he was well aware of this. Also, the King had not been informed of the outcome of their meeting, meaning that his mother has not made their reunion official yet. Ah, this devious woman. She really knew how to play, she had been a great, even if strict and sometimes cold, teacher. Well, a direct approach seemed the most gaining one. It would show his honesty and demure 'subservience' while at the same time prevent any further snide remarks. It was the noble gesture to name his own predicament and should win him approval and status.

"You are informed correctly, my King. My mother received me and my wife for tea, in order to sort out certain disagreements in the family. I am pleased to tell you that Family Delvon will continue to support you as strongly as ever, your Majesty. You may count on our continued strength and dedication to serve."

Akkarin felt only a hollow satisfaction with this. He had told him that Family Delvon still wasn´t to be trifled with and had delicately suggested that it was a wish to serve, not only a duty or forced task. With this, the King had to accept it graciously, while at the same time acknowledge that Akkarin saw himself independent to a certain degree.

Yet, he knew that he would never be free. Accepting again the post of High Lord had been more than a wish to regain status. He had taken over responsibility for the most unlikely political reunion of the century. He had still felt indebted to the King and Kyralia, not because he had made those inexcusable mistakes in the past, but because he was the best choice for the mission and he knew it.

A lot of magicians thought, still, that maybe he had been treated too leniently, that he shouldn´t have survived. Akkarin went cold inside. He only found it in him to disagree with the first part. If not for his lovely wife and his love for her he would have welcomed death like a long-lost friend. This was why he had never confronted Sonea over her reckless behaviour when she thought he was dead. How was he to admonish her for what he himself knew as a bleak certainty in his veins - that death was oblivion, redemption and freedom just as much as horror, pain and hopelessness.

As for him being treated leniently, they did not understand. They did not understand that he had given up freedom, the first freedom he had had since that fateful journey all those years back. The first time he had felt free from guilt and shame and self-loathing, his debt paid, his life forfeit, but redeemed. Then he had been gifted with a second life in these dwellings and he could have vanished quietly with Sonea as his faithful companion and lover. But he hadn´t. He had chosen to stay, face the mistrust and even hate of the people he had sacrificed himself for and had accepted to be bound to this life-consuming task to the end of his life. And he had damned Sonea to the same fate, just like before. He hadn´t been strong enough to let her go and let her find her own way. Ever since that kiss in the first light of the day had he been lost, lost in her and her unwavering acceptance of who he was. She had looked at him as if he was still worth being loved and in that moment he had believed it himself.

He forced himself to concentrate on the present. He watched how King Merin´s eyes widened slightly at his response, but then softened a bit. His erstwhile friend smiled crookedly and nodded his acceptance. "Ah, Akkarin, I have missed your conversational skills. Now, how are your tasks progressing?"

Akkarin sighed inwardly, but this time from relief. The social welcoming dance was over. They could now start to discuss the truly important things - foremost Kyralia´s safety. He leaned forward and let his gaze wander over the charts and papers strewn across the table. He selected one that showed the borders of Kyralia and the wasteland of Sachaka. His eyes settled on the dot that was labelled 'Fort'. The Fort was no more. Many brave magicians had died there, because he had not been able to convince the Guild and the King that the Sachakan threat was real. He wouldn´t let that happen a second time. His eyes met the King´s and he pointed out the South and the North Pass.

"I suggest we start with the latest intelligence concerning our connections to Sachaka, my King." The latter nodded giving him leave to explain.

"Lady Savara has arrived in the capital and communicated with me yesterday evening." The King´s Advisors raised their eyebrows and cleared their throats meaningfully. Seeing and hearing that Akkarin smiled. "Oh, you wouldn´t have been alerted to that communication as the Lady and I have established a way to speak to each other without being spied upon...by the enemies." He savoured the slight pause. Let them be reminded who they were dealing with.

Lord Lehar, from Family Rihan, second cousin to the King narrowed his eyes at the High Lord. He had always opposed Akkarin, even in his early days, because he had been elected High Lord instead of Lehar´s uncle. The King´s Advisor tried to sabotage him whenever possible. He was spiteful, venomous and held a grudge as close to his heart as others did their lover. "Are we to understand that you have already broken your vows – again – and created a blood-gem using black magic without the King´s consent?"

Akkarin´s dark eyes turned icy-cold and were fixed unblinkingly on the royal courtier. His voice, however, was condescendingly polite and calm. "Lord Lehar, would you care to explain your insinuations?"

"I wasn´t insinuating anything, High Lord, merely stating a fact." The self-righteous, pompous prat grinned smugly. It was obvious that he considered himself the winner of that little side-play already. Akkarin´s eyebrows rose in mock confusion. "Pray tell, Lord Lehar, what fact were you stating?"

A slight red flush entered the other man´s complexion. It became clear that he did not need to be pushed much farther. Akkarin repeating his own statements back at him as questions was annoying him. King Merin kept silent watching the conversation unfold. Akkarin kept the other man´s gaze, urging him to break the silence and answer the last question.

The silence grew. Akkarin did not flinch nor move a single muscle in his face. He knew how his outwardly stoney mask always managed to unsettle his opponents. After several seconds the King´s Advisor started to fidget and cleared his throat. As predicted he then decided to cover his uneasiness by blatant, unrefined aggressiveness - more often than not a fatal mistake in the game of politics.

"High Lord, it is obvious that you know very well what I was talking about. You have just reported that you have been contacted by that Sachakan without any other magician being the wiser. The only means to accomplish this is by using a blood-gem that would block out other magicians´ interference. Therefore you must have created a blood-gem which is against the law. I knew you could not be trusted, Akkarin. Do you have the audacity to deny this fact?"

Akkarin noticed that the King had furrowed his brows at this turn of the conversation and felt a jolt of satisfaction at playing the arrogant magician mercilessly. If he wanted to succeed with the endeavour of uniting the two century-old enemies he needed the Guild united behind him, the King in support of his plans and the Nobles at least accepting of them. He needed to quell suspicions of his weakness as well as suspicions about his true motives the moment they surfaced. With that in mind Akkarin lowered his voice to a smooth, silky rumble. "Does that mean you question the King´s decision, Lord Lehar?"

The King´s Advisor´s eyes widened in alarm and they flickered towards his ruler before he launched himself at the other magician again. "I would never question my King´s decisions, High Lord. To insinuate –"

"Insinuate? I did not insinuate anything, Lord Lehar. I simply stated a fact."

" You –"

"Enough, Lehar!"

The King´s high, cold voice cut the magician´s sentence like a sharpened knife and the courtier immediately subsided into silence, an ugly, blotchy red suffusing his cheeks. Then the young ruler turned to the High Lord an amused light in his eyes acknowledging the well-played trap. Akkarin inclined his head a fraction, indicating that he had understood and appreciated the other man´s gesture.

"I think, Akkarin, that Lord Lehar´s question merits a response. Will you answer your King?"

"Of course, Sire. Please forgive me for having to let you wait." The accusation hung in the air – unsaid. If not for the Advisor´s interruption Akkarin would have been able to elaborate earlier. King Merin made a hand gesture that bade him continue.

"I did not in any way use black magic to establish this means of communication, Majesty. The explanation for this occurrence, that Lord Lehar rightfully claimed as being somewhat – ah – special, is quite simple. Lady Savara, who is a Sachakan magician after all, gifted me with this."

The High Lord held up a silver ring into which was embedded a strangely shaped and coloured stone. "It was given in the strictest confidence not to divulge its secret to anyone but you and your advisors, Majesty. I do not know the exact workings of this stone, however, I know that it does not contain blood or any other dark substances. The Lady is wearing another stone like this, thus our ability to communicate without being overheard. I take it you would not want the most secret dealings and plans to be open to general discussion?"

Akkarin decided to press his point. Mistakes had been made during the fight. The Guild had openly communicated until Lorlen, dear Lorlen, had finally drawn the right conclusion and stopped all unnecessary missives and messages.

"Certainly not, Akkarin, as you very well know. Now, since we have established that the source of your information remains within the legal bounds I´d like to hear what the Lady had to offer."

Akkarin inclined his head and started to relay the most important facts. "First of all, Sire, I´d like to point out that the Lady acts at a great personal risk being openly in favour of a reunion of our countries as allies rather than enemies. She will therefore have to be very careful and try not to offend or step onto too many toes. Progress has been made nevertheless. The Lady has been able to secure an audience with the emperor, which is to take place in two days time. Until then she and other members of her organisation will try to sway public opinion by spreading tales of our heroic victory, unending wisdom and otherworldly noblesse." Here the High Lord let amusement colour his voice and was rewarded by a small smirk on the King´s face.

"It will be important to make us the most important subject of gossip. I want us in the heads of all those Sachakans for once for another reason than a century-old grudge. We are to be the 'juicy news' so to say. The more people talk about us, the more whispers are heard, the more tongues wag, the greater the chance that the emperor will consent to taking the issue seriously."

"But what if public opinion sways against us?" asked Lord Brenar, the second Advisor.

Akkarin nodded. "Ah, yes, thank you, Lord Brenar, for asking that. I was planning on elaborating that point later on, but we might as well discuss that now. I consider it likely that public opinion will not be in our favour. That would be too much to ask. We have been their bane for too long a time. However, if we are lucky, Kariko´s invasion will be seen as equally flawed. He musn´t be seen as a hero and defender, but rather as a mad and power-hungry outcast who overstepped his bounds and got what he deserved.

"That we won should once again prove that Kyralia is strong and not to be trifled with. Kariko, the mad conqueror, destroyed a very fragile agreement – the one not to agree, but not to do anthing about that – between age-long enemies. If Sachaka is faced with the wraith of the victorious neighbour Kyralia, it is the Ichani´s fault. After that serious breach of peace, surely the mighty country will want revenge? And what if that happens? The last war was devastating. They misjudged their power against the Kyralians before, didn´t they? A renewal of the catastrophe that caused the wasteland and laid hundreds of hopes to rest and burnt bodies to ashes?

"Savara´s associates are everywhere, Sire. They will spread these whispers in taverns, in the local court, the streets and in the beds of the Achaki."

"Achaki?" Lord Lehar interrupted impatiently.

"Achaki are the noble magicians in Sachaka. It is the highest position, apart from the royal family, of course. The Lady has smuggled some of her men into the palace and into the households of the most influential families. I should say that spying is seen as a normal activity in Sachaka. If you get caught or are being spied upon without noticing, it is your fault and that´s that. Let me remind you that the Sachakans have no qualms using their magical powers to search the minds of their slaves and sometimes even fellow magicians."

The King´s Advisors shuddered visibly at that. The High Lord nodded. "Yes, it is a rather disturbing habit. Now, what we want to achieve with this rumour-mongering is that the Emperor feels obliged to sent an ambassador to Kyralia when Lady Savara approaches and offers her intelligence about the 'enemy'. She will, of course, be critical about sending an Achaki so soon, even though she wishes very much that it would be possible to achieve this alliance, having witnessed how fierce we are, but will bend to the Emperor´s wisdom in this." Akkarin chuckled.

King Merin seemed to be satisfied with his servant´s plans. "Well, well, Akkarin. There is a brilliant scheming mind in this head of yours."

"Your Majesty, I take that as a compliment."

"By all means, do so. Now, what will happen when I am approached to offer an audience to this envoy?"

"Ah, yes. I would recommend meeting on somewhat neutral ground that at the same time will drive home the point that we are still the victors of that long-ago confrontation. The wasteland. Let them travel there. The Sachakans will feel safer when still in their own land without it giving the impression that you are the one coming to them for a talk. A first meeting could take place there, but you will not consent to meet with the ambassador directly. We need to make them feel that we are the ones who are to be convinced that an alliance would benefit both sides. They´ll have to work for that. Then, after a first consent is found, you might want to invite a small group of Achaki into Imardin. By then we should have been able to teach all the graduated Magicians to hold additional power and our sources to release it. Lord Balkan is doing a lot of work in that field already. When the Sachakans arrive here, I need the noble families to be in support of the union. It would be helpful if you could express your wish for that to be the case, Sire."

"No."

"Sire, I —"

"No, Akkarin. I will not publicly announce my support before I can see the first signs of success. I take it you will be able to provide that, and soon?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. I apologise." Akkarin kept an expressionless face, inside he seethed at the other man´s antics. So, the King meant for him to do the whole work, did he? Fine. If the King decided to be that insipid concerning such an important project then he would have to see it through alone. Akkarin was well aware that this was still a part of the punishment for breaking the King´s trust and in extension his friendship. The High Lord saw that Lehar was smirking. Sleek bastard.

"Apology accepted. Continue."

"The important part will be the first meeting, Sire. We will have to convey that we are willing to negotiate, but that it is them who have offended us and therefore should seek an alliance rather than a confrontation with us. Of course, we have to offer fair treatment and acceptable conditions. The Lady told me she would be most happy to further any friendly relations between the two countries, but she was not interested in 'selling them out'. Our success depends on her continued cooperation, for the time being."

"I see. Well, we should start discussing these conditions then."

And discuss them, they did. More than once Akkarin had to restrain himself from openly pointing out ridiculous suggestions or vent his frustration about the narrow-mindedness of his companions on them. The next two hours saw the King, his Advisors and the High Lord of the Magicians´ Guild buried deep in scrolls and papers. When Lehar started to repeat himself over and over again, Akkarin caught himself wandering of in his mind.

He thought about Sonea, about the feeling of being buried in her sleek warmth and the feel of her subtle breasts against his naked chest, her heat enveloping him, her muscles squeezing him providing exquisite pain. The way her dark eyes glazed over when she neared completion, her panting his name, pleading with him. The way her body writhed underneath him and arched towards him seeking even deeper friction.

Ah yes, those were far more pleasurable thoughts than listening to this idiot mumbling about things that lay far beyond his intellectual reach. The High Lord smiled. He should take her up on that suggestion about the walk to the spring. Their first time had been accompanied by the sound of water. He didn´t mind repeating that experience.

Until then, however, he would have to keep focused on the proceedings at court, boring though they might be most of the time. Akkarin hid a smile as a thought crossed his mind. There was a bit of fun in there for him, after all. If only the King knew what he had planned for Lord Dannyl and his Elynian friend. But, no. It was always wise to keep some trumps hidden.

Until the time when it would be needed to play that card, he´d settle on steering the other men´s decisions skilfully in the right direction without letting them feel how much he nudged them. A strenuous task, but nothing less than his duty.

He was the High Lord and had chosen to once again commit his life to the Guild, the King and the country. Only this time there was a yet unknown and therefore slightly discomforting feeling of hope.


	12. The game is on

**A/N: Hello everyone, here is chapter 12****- once again beta-ed by the fabulous MoonMyst. Hey, H-Hedwig, I tried to behave myself and used ,,,,,,-s ;-) Chappie 12 is kind of a transition one…calm before the storm…or rather Tea party ;-) Now, is Regin a good guy? Is he playing with Sonea, who knows? Ta ta**

CHAPTER 12

The game is on

The day had been long and demanding. Sonea swiped away layers of dust and sweat from her forehead. Lord Balkan had worked them hard, making them create window after window out of undefined glass-lumps.

It had taken them the better of the afternoon to fill out the gaping holes in just one storey of the great mansion of the Rihans´ family- residence. Some time ago the Warrior had finally made them stop and had allowed them to return to the Guild without him as he had business elsewhere. Regin was walking beside her, for once being dishevelled and dirty, and constantly complaining about that, of course. She had stopped listening to him a long while ago.

More than once Sonea had been tempted to question the necessity of their task. She did feel like a traitor recreating the luxury of glass windows for the Nobles while her own people still suffered from lack of even ramshackle shelters, basic nutrition and the Healers´ help. Regin´s constant whining had certainly not helped lighten her mood at all.

_I will find a way to create a shelter for them and provide magical protection and healing. I am the High Lord´s wife. They will have to listen to me, if I can make Akkarin see the necessity of this._

"Sonea?"

"What?" she snapped.

Regin held up his hands in a defensive gesture. "Tut tut, Sonea, please refrain from ripping off my head at every possible opportunity. And —" and here he smirked condescendingly, "you´d do well to remember that 'what' is a term you would not regularly hear in civilised conversation. 'Excuse me, my Lord?', now that would be a great way to —"

Sonea stopped abruptly and faced the other novice. "Regin, what is it with you today? You cannot stop lecturing me, can you? I have told you in a very amiable way that I am not interested in this, more than once. Still you keep on with it. Do you have a death wish? I´d be more than happy to oblige, just say the word."

Sonea had closed the distance between them and her nose was now just inches away from his, her dark eyes aflame with outrage. The last sentence had been uttered in a rather high-pitched voice. She hated her own voice like that, but couldn´t stop herself.

Regin looked shocked. His gaze travelled down to her lips, lingered, and jumped back to her eyes. His own eyes were slightly widened and he took a quick step back nearly stumbling over one of the broken stone pillars littering the street. Before a somewhat diminished version of the mask of cool disinterest settled over his features again, Sonea saw shock, fear and - could it be?- disgust and loathing.

Suddenly an icy-cold certainty settled over her. Regin had been playing with her, after all. All his newfound friendliness, his promise to try to change, his constant bickering, a farce. But to what end? The nerve of that bastard. He found her disgusting, did he? How dare he assume that she would want to kiss him, him of all people? How dare he react to her like she was some kind of repelling, hideous creature? 

Regin and Sonea stood facing each other, both panting and tense. Sonea´s eyes had grown cold and if Regin´s defensive stance was any indication, she struck a threatening tableau.

"Regin of Winar, you are disgusting."

"I – excuse me? I am what?"

"How dare you even think about kissing me!"

"Ki...Kissing you?" And suddenly the blond haired boy laughed, he laughed so hard, that tears were running down his face leaving trails on his dust-covered cheeks.

That, naturally, did nothing to appease Sonea. She drew herself up to her full height, trying her best to loom over him in a fair imitation of her husband.

"Shut up, Regin, shut up. I´ve had enough. Enough of your deceiving little games and your manipulations. You think it funny that I was defending my honour? Oh, of course, I am just the dirty slum dweller whore, am I not? You haven´t changed a bit."

She spun around on her heels and made to go, when she felt a hand on her arm. She was very much prepared to tear him to pieces and she felt her magic swell up, ready to be realeased full power, when she became aware of Regin´s expression.

That was another first one. He looked contrite. Regin of Winar looked contrite. That revelation made her momentarily speechless offering the other novice precious seconds to first remove his hand from her arm and then address her in a now calm voice.

"Sonea, I apologise. I did not mean to laugh at you. Nor did I mean to insinuate anything about, eh, kissing you. I wasn´t thinking about that."

Sonea snorted and crossed her arms under her breasts.

"Ok, yes, for a moment I thought, that you meant to kiss me, but only for a moment. I am just not used to that, eh, intimate behaviour —"

"What?" Sonea was now inches away from exploding, her magic rising to the surface once more.

"No, no, no. That did not come across like I wanted it to. Just let me explain, won´t you?"

Sonea nodded stiffly. She noticed that Regin´s gaze had heated up a bit, too. Under all his smooth manners he was beginning to be annoyed or even angry, too, was he? Good.

"As I was going to say, I am not used to such intimate behaviour from my family or even friends. Interacting with the Nobles, no Iam _not_ lecturing, you always keep a certain distance. Crossing those boundaries is considered ill manners, because it implies…well, eh, carnal interest. Nobles are not demonstrative in public. There are certain rules and regulations about which gestures and touches are allowed for family members, married couples, engaged couples and so on. You must have noticed that your husband treats you differently in public, did you not?"

This last hit Sonea like a direct blow to the stomach. Yes, true, maybe there was more to Akkarin´s distanced behaviour during their meeting with Daidra of Delvon than simple fawning over his mother.

"Anyway, I just reacted to your impetuous behaviour. I am not used to, to…"

"To deal with slum dwellers?" Sonea challenged.

Regin held her gaze. "Yes."

Sonea stepped away from the other novice and layed her hand on a broken piece of the same pillar Regin had nearly stumbled over. Its surface was rough and warm from exposure in the sun. She let her hands explore the stone further using her exercises to calm down and regain her composure. She needed to reign in her magic before it lashed out. When she felt under control again she took a deep breath, turned around and neared Regin. A few steps away she halted and gave him a crooked smile.

"Well, Regin of Winar, what then would be the appropriate distance for interacting with a fellow novice?"

Regin smiled back, relief clearly written over his handsome features. He reached out a hand. His arm was fully extended and yet he did not touch her. "Actually, this is exactly right, Sonea. One arm length, so as not to be able to touch. Pff, as if that ever stopped anyone from doing anything."

Sonea mock-gaped at him, her eyes wide open with faked innocence. "Oh, Regin, how can you! In the presence of a Lady, and a married Lady at that."

Regin immediately retreated and bowed very deeply, his right hand balled into a tight fist and pressed over his heart. "My sincerest apologies, Lady Sonea, I was out of line. What do you require of me in compensation?"

"Not that _your _sincerest apologies mean much, my Lord, but there are two things you could do in recompensation. Firstly, I´d like you to accompany me back to the Guild. Secondly, I´d like you to explain how a woman may apologise, since I am certain that the etiquette dictates yet another gesture for the _weaker_ sex."

"Gladly. You curtsy and lay your hand flat to your chest, between your throat and, well, your breasts. Be careful not to touch them, that is considered —"

"Ill manners, alright, got it." Sonea curtsied a bit awkwardly and tried to position her hand in a way that she did not touch her bossom. "Regin, I´d like to apologise for my _impetuous behaviour. _Will you forgive me?"

Regin laughed. "Well done, Sonea. Of course, I do." Then his expression grew serious. "Sonea?"

"Yes?"

"I´d really like for our – for our friendship to work. Please stop judging me at first sight. There will always be awkward moments and misunderstandings since we are just getting to know each other. All I am asking you is to give us a chance. You´ll have to trust me, even if only a little bit."

Sonea felt torn inside. She still couldn´t make herself believe everything the blond novice said. Then again, he had treated her decently so far. A truce maybe? She simply nodded. That seemed to be enough for Regin.

"Thank you, Sonea. Shall we go?"

Sonea started walking down the street, so lost in her own thoughts, that she did not see the victorious smirk flitting over her companion´s face.

TBMD TBMD TBMD

"She will _not_ be going there! Father, you cannot be serious!"

Dorrien was pacing up and down in his father´s private quarters, clearly agitated. His face was flushed and his breathing quick and shallow. Then he rounded on the older magician. "How could you allow her to go?" he shouted for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

Rothen shook his head and tried to sooth his son. "Dorrien, really, it is not my place to forbid her to visit other novices. Regin is no fool. He would never harm the High Lord´s wife."

"Of course it is your place to forbid this nonsense. You are her guardian. You must see reason. Regin has not changed. Someone like him never does. He is vile and cruel and he will try to hurt her, no matter what you say."

"I understand your concern, but —"

"No, no you don´t. If you did, you´d stop her."

Frustration and hurt entered his son´s voice and Rothen felt his heart clench at this obvious sign of love. Yes, Dorrien still loved her and since Akkarin still had not lifted the restriction for all magicians to remain at the Guild he couln´t even flee from it by distancing himself from her. Rothen had to admit that he himself had been more than a little bit apprehensive when Sonea had returned to the Guild walking next to Regin so companionably, even smiling at him at one point. He had called her then.

When Sonea had told him about this Tea Party in Regin´s quarters, Dorrien had not been present, however Rothen had told his son, after the young magician had expressed a wish to see his novice later in the evening.

"I think that she will handle it quite fine," Dannyl interrupted his thoughts. Dorrien rounded on him.

"How can you be so sure they won´t make a fool out of her?"

Dannyl, who presently resided in Rothen´s most comfortable chair, stretched his long legs deliberately, cocked his head and grinned mischieviously. "You know, Dorrien, I have quite recently had an interesting conversation with her, I don´t think she is easily subdued. She —"

"But —"

"Shush, don´t interrupt superior thought processes." Dannyl glared at Dorrien, who even in his miserable mood, couldn´t surpress a grin in reply. "What I was trying to say, prior to being so rudely interrupted by you, green-robe, Sonea has withstood all the mocking and taunting during her earlier school days, she suffered through the time she thought the High Lord was a monster, gave Regin the lashing of the century in public and even defied the King in court. Then she survived the wasteland, came back, fought that rat Kariko and saved us all. Then she went ahead and took down Iniko, singlehandedly, not to mention. I think you should give her some credit."

Dorrien´s expression changed rapidly from worried and angry to contemplative and hopeful, and back again.

"Honestly, Dorrien, if you are still not convinced, there is one last piece of evidence for her stealth against which even you cannot argue. One, that once and for all settles that Sonea knows how to treat nobles the right way."

"Oh, really?"

Rothen chuckled, already knowing what would come now. And just like he had predicted Dannyl sighed theatrically and pointed to his leg.

"She stabbed me, _me_!" Then the tall magician spun towards the Healer and narrowed his eyes at him. "Well?" he challenged.

With a shrug and a tiny smile Dorrien admitted defeat and walked to a window his gaze becoming distant once more. Dannyl sighed, locked eyes with Rothen and stood up. "I am going to leave, thanks for your hospitality, as always, Rothen."

The older magician nodded. Then Dannyl walked over to the door, passing Dorrien and touching him on the arm. "She´ll be alright, Dorrien, you´ll see." Then the door closed behind him and Rothen and his son remained behind, each in their respective silent positions, both lost in their thoughts.

_TBMD TBMD TBMD_

Daidra of Delvon was raging inside. Not that any but the most skilled observer would have been able to realise that. Her face betrayed nothing. Her features were smooth and her gaze cold and regal.

Lord Balkan _was_ a very skilled observer and noticed the noblewoman´s tension. He wisely refrained from mentioning it, but stored this piece of information away for later contemplation. If he would have had to predict which of the three women facing him would be the most disapproving he would have settled his bet on Regin´s mother, Isidra of Winar. However, the blonde beauty, though clearly upset and displeased, did not exude the same venomous contempt and disapproval the other noblewoman did.

The third woman had been introduced as the older sister of Regin.

Balkan had remembered her then. As far as he recalled she had always been a beauty and quite spoiled for it. He was informed that Liviana was a widow of the war, her husband having been killed by Kariko and his allies. He knew his role and conveyed his deepest sympathies, which were graciously accepted.

All the while he couldn´t shake the feeling that something wasn´t quite right though. There was an undefined, underlying current in the interactions between the three women, something he was missing, but just couldn´t seem to put his finger on.

The wave of anger after he had told the Ladies that Regin had been working with the High Lord´s wife the whole morning and afternoon, however, had been tangible.

Currently he felt three pairs of eyes boring into his back as he made his way down the street after having excused himself, leaving the noblewomen to their purchasing.

Lord Balkan sighed. The afternoon had been strenuous for him. He had had to chaperone the two novices and at the same time create high quality work. The Rihans were family to the King, after all.

After he had left Sonea and Regin, he had made his rounds to the great warehouse that had been reopened as training quarters for the volunteers. Many of the helpers of the Ichani-war, as it was now called throughout Imardin, had enlisted themselves to the task of volunteer. It was not that suprising considering that the Guild offered a regular income and protection during war times.

Then again Balkan had expected more of them to shy back from the one condition each of the slum dwellers had to agree to in order to become a volunteer-apprentice. One great fear of the magicians and the King had been that with setting free magical potential in the apprentices and teaching them how to wield it in order to fulfil their task, many of the sources might be tempted to strive for further magical knowledge. It had been the Guild´s task for many, many years now to prevent rogue magicians from roaming the land freely. It would have led these efforts ad absurdum, if they had knowingly started creating their own unsustainable army of potential rogues. Therefore – after due consideration – the Higher Magicians had decided to make it compulsory to have one´s power blocked again after having learned to touch it and pull it to the surface.

That, of course, had led to another obstacle. Volunteers had to be able to tap on their resources or else they were not any help anymore. A group consisting of Alchemists, Healers and Warriors had been charged with the task to alter the blocking process in a way that the power could be willingly released, but not wielded.

It had taken days of research and unwavering dedication until finally the High Lord had been presented with a reliable solution. The new accurate knowledge about the process of black magic had opened their minds to new possibilities. The recruits would learn to infuse their bodies with their magic without forming it into something consciously. Formerly, blocking meant that the connection to the well of magic inside a person was severed. The new blocking process only restricted the magic to the body. With Guild magicians, the magic could interact, because they were able to focus and release it. Apprentices would not be able to do this.

The magical slum-dwellers were required to present themselves for inspection once a day in order to ascertain that the block was still in place. So far, all evidence hinted at the hoped-for effect that the blocking was irreversible. Nevertheless, the Guild did not want to take risks.

Balkan finally arrived at his destination. The great warehouse was once again bustling with activity. When he entered, all occupants stopped their training and bowed to him.

"Greetings, Lord Balkan."

"Greetings, apprentices. Let me see your progress so far."

"Yes, my Lord."

_TBMD TBMD TBMD_

Regin of Winar, House Paren, was instructing his comrades about what he wanted them to do later that evening. Issle especially, had not been pleased that he had invited Sonea. No matter, she would do what he told her to do, she always did.

"So, did everyone understand the instructions?"

"Yes."

"Fine, leave me then. I have more to prepare."

_Sonea, Sonea, the game is on! _


	13. The Tea party

**A/N: Dear readers. I apologise for the long wait. I really suffered from a serious writers´block these last weeks. Then the one-shot occupied my mind...ah, well. Here you go. I hope you have not abandoned me ;-) Reviews would be lovely... ****Oh, and please note, that my lovely beta (who I still call MoonMyst) has changed her name to Se-kari. She is still the same person, though ;-) Thanks, Moony, you are awesome!**

CHAPTER 13

The Tea Party

The Tea Party at Regin´s was about to start in one hour. Sonea was taking a refreshing bath. She had scrubbed off all the dust and sweat that had accumulated during the day, then refilled the bathtub with new water and heated it with magic. She stretched her tired legs in the hot water and let the soothing warmth settle in her limbs. She had even added a bit of lavendula-oil, a gift from her husband.

Akkarin still had not returned from court. Sonea sighed. She missed him. Of course, she understood that he had his duties and it would have been very selfish to try to turn him away from them in times like these when war or peace were balancing on a knife´s edge. That did not change the fact that she needed him, however. There were still times during which she woke up sweating and panting after tossing about in bed having had another nightmare in which Akkarin was dead. Yes, a small part of her wished for them to be back in the wasteland, away from duties and meddling Kings.

A still smaller part was angry with the High Lord for accepting again the post and binding them both to a life-long servitude to the Guild. Sonea immediately shut down that line of thought. It did no good to dwell on 'ifs' and 'would have beens'. She smiled and sunk even deeper into the hot water. Her aunt would be proud as this was her saying.

Maybe I am just on edge because I don´t know what to expect from Regin and the other novices. I really need to calm down a bit.

Sonea shut her eyes and took a deep breath. The lavendula-oil´s perfume rose from the surface of the water and clung to her skin and hair. It smelled of their wedding night. Akkarin had given the rare oil to her and then proceeded to prepare a bath. They had spent quite some time together in the bathtub, their bodies entwined, skin on skin. And then Akkarin´s hands had started exploring her curves.

Sonea sighed at that special memory. His dark eyes glazed over with lust, his grip strong and sure, his hiss of pleasure as he sank into her, parted her and began stroking her. She was getting aroused very quickly. The image of his lean body moving over her and the remembered feeling of his cock slamming in and out of her made her pulse speed up and her breathing become ragged. She rubbed her knuckles over her nipples and massaged her breasts until they felt full and heavy. Then she tweaked her nipples - once, twice and soothed them again with warm water trickling down her fingers. She repeated that procedure until the pulse between her legs had become a dull ache.

Then she got out of the bathtub and dried herself with a fluffy towel. She let the soft material caress her whole body without touching her throbbing sex. When she was dry at last she gathered her hair into a loose bun and walked out of the bathroom, taking the lavendula-oil with her. She let the towel drop to the ground and glided into the bed she shared with the High Lord. She buried her nose into his pillow. His scent still lingered there. Immediately an image pushed itself into the forefront of her mind. A scenario she had pictured many times before.

It seemed such a long time ago that she had been chased by the other novices and fled into the dark tunnel behind the hidden panel. It had been a moment filled with tension. She remembered the short-lived moment of relief when she had thought herself safe – until she had felt his warm breath on her neck and turned around to look into the unforgiving black eyes of her captor. He had thrown her out of her hiding place, putting her at the mercy of her tormentors.

Nowadays, her mind provided quite a different outcome to this situation. Sonea let some drops of the oil fall into the palm of her right hand. The she spread her legs and lightly stroked herself. She drew in a deep breath at the feeling of her warm small hand gliding over her sensitive bud and her glistening folds, massaging the oil into her eager flesh. Then she let her middle finger find a rhythm she liked and let her imagination take over.

It did not take long until she came, her back arching off the bed. She lay still afterwards with her eyes closed and let her breathing return to a normal steady pace. Then she opened her eyes and swung her legs over the side of the bed, sitting up.

Well, it was time to prepare and then face whatever Regin chose to serve her.

_Courage, Sonea, courage._

TBMD TBMD TBMD

Regin of Winar was quite satisfied with himself. That in itself was not unusual, but today he wore an exceptionally smug expression. Ah, yes, this evening was going to be spectacular. Poor Sonea would be getting in quite a few tight corners this evening and he, the ever gracious and recently unprejudiced host, would come to her rescue. This way she would learn to fend for herself in the social shark bay, preparing her for what her mother-in-law and his own mother planned while at the same time being led to trust him more and more. Oh, not consciously maybe, but there was that saying that deeds spoke louder than words, right? She knew that one, Regin was sure, and abided by it.

The important thing was that the other novices, those few he considered to be his inner circle, played their parts well. He was especially looking forward to Issle´s piece.

One last look at his masterfully planned and meticulously penned list. Yes, he was sure that this was the right way to go about his mission. His mother would regret spurning him like that and if Sonea should suffer some discomfort, so be it. He would be there to save the day, wouldn´t he? So, no harm done, right?

It felt tremendously good to be in control.

_Superiority, Regin, superiority!_

TBMD TBMD TBMD

"Lord Dannyl of the Magician´s Guild of Kyralia, get your attention back here or by the powers, I swear I´ll bite you somewhere it´s really going to hurt."

The addressee of this charming declaration started and quickly turned his head on the pillow looking at the naked man lying next to him.

"Oh, no, you are not giving me the puppy eyes, you big hairy gorin. Now, you are never inattentive like that, especially after we have lain together." A hand brushed the magician´s dark and somewhat tussled hair out of his face. "What is really bothering you, Dannyl?"

The tall man sighed and held his lover´s gaze. Tayend might be many things, but insensitive he was not. The Elynian could smell intrigue and hidden feelings and plans and strategies and manipulations and all the other fine arts of politics and social life half a continent away. He was like one of those wild boars that could sniff out special mushrooms deep in the earth, only he sniffed out scandal.

"Alright, alright, my little pig. Let me guess, you want the whole dreadful story and all the gory details?"

Tayend looked somewhat hurt and Dannyl did not catch immediately why his companion would react that way. "Tayend? What did I say?"

The blond man sighed and sat up in bed covering his nether parts with a sheet. "Dannyl, I am worried about you. I am not interested just to be properly amused. You make me sound like a shallow and frivolous courtier."

"But —"

"No, listen. I am good at playing the game, but that does not mean I am the same person underneath. I would have thought you at least would have grasped that by now."

Dannyl looked stricken. He had not meant to make it sound like that. He caressed the other man´s face and kissed him gently on the lips. "I am sorry, Tayend. I would never think so low of you. I used unfortunate words. I apologise."

Tayend pouted, yes, he pouted with his full sensuous lips. Dannyl groaned, which made his lover smile, satisfied. With all his beauty and charm he needed to be constantly reassured.

"I forgive you. Now, what is it?"

Dannyl sat up, too, and leaned against the bedframe. Then he began. After he had finished, both men remained silent for a while. Tayend looked thoughtful. Dannyl felt relieved already. It had been the right thing to tell his lover his worries. And by the look on the Elynian´s face something devious was bubbling behind his innocent blue eyes. It took another five minutes. Finally, Tayend turned his head towards Dannyl and smiled. It was quite terrifying.

"Now, here is what we are going to do."

TBMD TBMD TBMD

Sonea felt the wind tug at her brown robes as she made her way from the High Lord´s residence towards the novices´ quarters. She still felt a light trepidation. But there was nothing she could have done to alleviate this feeling so she started walking more briskly. She had had enough of waiting. That stupid tea party had already occupied her mind far too much. It was just a tea party, after all.

Even should Regin decide to return to being his arrogant, pompous and destructive self, she would not let that ruin her mood ever again. She would tell herself that she had known all along and that she had not expected anything else, so why be surprised. Sonea knew that deep down, that was a lie as she had come to at least like her former archenemy a tiny, teensy little bit. Or maybe quite a bit. She wasn´t, however, going to dwell on this now. It was better to be prepared for the worst in order not to be let down, right?

The High Lord´s wife arrived at the entrance to the Novices´ Quarters. Not for the first time did she wonder how Regin planned on entertaining so many people in his medium-sized room. She knew for a fact that he did not have larger rooms than the other novices at his disposal. She had spent some torturous weeks living here, after all.

Her question was answered immediately as she opened the double wing doors of the entrance. Speaking of pompous. Her eyes widened at the sight that met her eyes. That sneaky bastard had extended his party throughout the whole quarters. Every single room was lit with candles and magical lights. Hundreds of flowers and fancy drapes and garlands were seemingly randomly decorating the hallway and the intersections. He had removed the doors to the rooms, thus opening them to access for his guests. And guests meant all novices, all of them. Sonea swallowed.

Then her eyes settled on the arrangement in the middle of the hallway. Round tables stood surrounded by high-backed chairs. Here, too, flowers were present. In large bouquets neatly placed in the middle of each table. A group of musicians were playing a light soothing tune.

A swift cursory glance and count settled her earlier assumption. Yes, all meant all of the novices, meant every single one, each and every one. Select few? My ass. And those novices were staring at her. Of course. She had been the only one to arrive 'late', because she was the only novice not living here.

She felt immediately awkward as she faced the assembled masses of the other novices. She had only been in this room for five seconds and already she was exposed to scrutiny and felt like she had committed a grand social blunder. All her instincts told her to sneer and make some witty comment about the joyously overstuffed and pretentious little arrangements and the host´s tastelessness and then leave as quickly as possible. But she knew that that was not an option. The High Lord´s wife could not run from a social gathering of nobles just because she was not feeling well.

Sonea lifted her chin and plastered a most courteous smile on her face. Then she stepped forward and inclined her head as if graciously acknowledging that the whole assembly had waited only for her. In her peripheral vision, she saw some of the novices stiffen at her gesture and smiled even brighter. Pompous asses versus Sonea, zero to one.

Again, speaking of pompous asses, where was the host? Right on cue, Regin of Winar, House Paren strode out of his room located at her left side, between Sonea and the rest of the novices, Issle at his arm, fawning all over him. A disgusting display really. Regin stepped to the middle of the room and lifted his free arm in a majestic gesture, a glass of some sparkling liquid in his hand.

"Welcome, fellow novices, friends. Tonight let us remember the brave men and women who have sacrificed their lives in order to secure our land´s freedom and keep the enemies at bay. Let us remember and celebrate. To Kyralia and her dead heros."

Cheers and toasts echoed through the hallway, glasses were raised. Sonea, who hadn´t been able to get a glass of anything so far, just lifted her empty hand in a somewhat empty salute. She chuckled. How fitting, really. The smirk vanished from her face very quickly as Regin motioned for silence again, the simpering excuse of a woman still tightly attached to his side, and pointed towards her.

"Let me introduce my guest of honour this evening, a heroine in her own right - Sonea of Family Delvon, House Velan, wife to the High Lord."

_Yeah, trust Regin to go for the grand and more than embarrassing entrance._

Subdued clapping and some half-hearted "To Sonea"-s ensued. _Stay in role, stay in role, don´t let them see your embarrassment._ Sonea nodded gracefully and stepped further into the room. Regin detached himself from Issle and met her in the middle of the room. Their eyes met. Then Regin of Winar took her hand, bowed formally and announced loudly to the room, "It is a great pleasure indeed that you will grace my rooms with your presence tonight, Lady Sonea."

Gorin´s dung. What am I supposed to say to this? Then all of a sudden Sonea remembered Regin´s unwanted tutelage of the last hours. Hastily she responded with a bow of her own and the appropriate answer, "The pleasure is all mine and it is you who grace me with this kind invitation, Lord Regin." Ha, take that, oh pompous ones.

Sonea did not have time to gloat over her small victory, because Regin hooked her arm in his and led her to the table in the very middle of the arrangement. Then he slid her chair out for her and waited for her to be seated. Sonea sat down, subconsciously waiting for him to whip the chair out from under her in the last second. He did not. Instead he bowed again, went back to Issle and repeated the same procedure with her, so that the two women were seated right next to each other.

_Brilliant._ Sonea smiled charmingly. Issle responded in kind. _This is going to be a long afternoon._

Regin stood next to the blond-haired woman and gestured to the other tables. "Please be seated and enjoy the refreshments."

The other novices followed the invitation and soon Guild servants approached the tables with steaming pots of tea and coffee and plates on plates of fine cakes, chocolates, fruits and other indulgences. Even after having spent quite a few meals with the High Lord, Sonea was still taken aback at the overabundance. Guilt made itself known. With the leftovers of this stupid tea party alone, a family in the slums would be able to survive a whole week.

Conversation at first was kept deliberately light, or so she assumed. Regin was the most gracious host, weaving one topic into another, never letting awkward silences settle around his table. Still, he never pushed too much or interrupted his guests.

We don´t breed that kind of guys in the slums, Sonea thought. Of course, there was no need for that kind of conversational skills there. Anyway, she was beginning to relax and even enjoy herself a little. It was ten minutes into the party that she suddenly found herself volunteering information.

"That´s right, Regin. I was wondering how they plan to get us all through graduation, considering the tight schedule our teachers have with rebuilding the city, teaching the volunteers and teaching us."

"Exactly."

"Well, I should hope that we are still given priority considering the large sums our families pay for our education here," another novice interjected flippantly. He was seated to her right, two chairs away from her.

Sonea narrowed her eyes at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

The dark-haired boy sighed and lifted his chin, his gaze was fixed above her shoulder as if he considered direct eye-contact with her distasteful. "Well, defending the city was all good and well, but I do not see why exactly we have to waste our resources on those slum-dwellers just to teach them something. It might get to their heads and they would start thinking themselves almighty. You might as well give a rabid dog a longer leash."

"Excuse me?" White-hot rage flared behind her eyes. How dare that snivelling little brat insult her people. She was about to compose a reply worthy of such diatribe when Regin interrupted.

"Ean, the High Lord has explained that we still need to protect and secure our land. We are still facing an entire land full of black magicians. We need the volunteers."

"So? Why not search for dormants within our population? As a matter of fact, I know that my sister has a hidden ability."

"So why didn´t she join the Guild then?" Sonea challenged.

Ean became agitated and shifted position on his chair. "She was married. My family decided that I should take the education."

"I see", was all she answered to that. He tone quite easily conveyed her contempt.

"Let us not dwell on this topic, my friends. This evening shall be for pleasure and enjoyment." Regin´s voice did not brook disagreement.

Immediately, lighter topics were introduced. Sonea, however, was once again on edge, wondering how different she was from the rest of the people gathered together around the tables.

She was not a noble by birth-right, had never had the upbringing of a Lady. She could not and would not change who she was, not even for Akkarin. Then again, when she had accepted his proposal, she had also accepted the social duties that came along with it. It would do no good to fight over the differing views each time she was confronted with slurs against her background. She understood now that she would not be gaining respect by demonstrating her less than desirable fighting tactics, such as smacking him, biting him, scratching at him, yelling at him, hitting him in the groin and all the other delightful scenarios she could envision right now. No, she would have to defend her opinion on equal footing and with their rules. What was it Regin had said?

By the way, if you decide to insult a noble, especially his family, at least say something witty. If it is considered an intelligent jibe you might even get appreciation for it.

Very well, she could do that. And something else nagged at her mind. A lesson. Being in the underground room with her guardian after having consented to be his second source. _If you want an advantage over your opponent, do something completely unexpected._

Sonea smiled. She cleared her throat and leaned towards the offending table-companion, letting her hand rest gently on his arm. He jerked his arm away and looked at her open-mouthed and undignified. All conversation stopped at the table. Sonea felt all eyes on her.

"Forgive me, Lord Ean. It was rude not to inquire as to your sister´s well-being. So, tell me. Did marriage become her?"

If possible, the noble´s eyes grew even wider and Sonea heard a low chuckle from the chair currently occupied by Regin. Then the other novice snapped back into manners, seeing as all eyes were on him now. To refuse acceptance of her apology now or neglecting to issue one of his own would be considered unfathomably rude, she was after all by status a noblewoman and married to the most powerful man in the Guild. A decision would have to be made.

Lord Ean of Family Telan, House Rihan, stood up and bowed very deeply, his right hand balled into a tight fist and pressed over his heart just like Regin's had only some hours ago. "My sincerest apologies, Lady Sonea. I should not have brought up such a political matter at a social event such as this." He inclined his head towards Regin, too. "May I extend the same apologies to you as our host, Lord Regin?"

The latter nodded graciously. Ean redirected his attention to Sonea, this time meeting her gaze and fighting a polite smile onto his face. "Thank you for your inquiry, Sonea. My sister is very well. She now lives in Elyne."

"I am glad to hear that, Ean", Sonea replied dead-pan. Inside, she had to fight a grin. Well played, Ean, well played. It had not escaped her notice that he had circumvented the actual affront and apologised for bringing up the topic, not for what he had insinuated. So, even though he had managed to avoid a direct apology she knew that she had gained new respect with her peers.

Yes, she imagined she might come to enjoy that kind of game the more proficient she became with it. Suddenly, the afternoon took on a whole new dimension. She understood that this was her chance to learn and prepare in the relative safety of her equals.

She chuckled. If Regin knew what opportunity he presented her, with he might not enjoy his party this much, after all.

Well, she would use it and use it well.

TBMD TBMD TBMD

Regin of Winar was having one of the best days of his life. Everything was going perfectly to plan. Ean had played his role perfectly, and even without Regin having to introduce the topic himself.

The look on Sonea´s face had been simply perfect. Oh, he liked that word. Perfect. And even better, she had managed to surprise him. Who would have thought she was such a fast learner? The way she had played the other novice had been quite impressive. Not up to his own standard, of course, but impressive nevertheless.

This party was going to be a full success. Oh, he was so enjoying himself. Throughout the next hour he signed to his accomplices and they approached her with challenge after challenge. He had someone faking inebriation and behaving indecently towards her. Another questioned her extensively about her live as a slum-dweller. A third let slip that he was not sure whether the Sachakan threat was real. Oh, yes, he had crafted a masterful plan of tight corners.

And she prevailed. Unnoticed, Regin, underneath his mirth and enjoyment of her being ridiculed, taunted and led on, had begun to swallow his own medicine. He had built another ounce of sincere respect for her. Had he been aware of that in that moment, maybe he would have run and hidden to lick his wounded pride, but as it was, he simply gushed on about his own ingenuity.

The party was in full swing when Regin decided that it was time for the last and biggest challenge. The tables had been cleared and groups of novices were standing talking to each other. Regin stepped into the middle of the floor and signalled to the musicians for quiet.

"Let us dance!" he announced and held out his hand to Sonea. The High Lord´s wife hesitated, but finding all eyes on her, made a half-hearted step in his direction.

The crash of a glass meeting the stone-floor could be heard as well as an outraged, high-pitched shriek. "How dare you, you man-stealing, promiscuous bitch!"

A deadly silence settled over the scene and even Regin was taken aback. He had meant for Issle to play jealous and hassle her about her relationship with him privately, thus making her defend it and strengthen it like that. He had_ not_ meant for her to insult the High Lord´s wife in public.

He paled. His official social companion for the evening had just openly and pu

blicly insulted his guest of honour. No, shove that. She had just openly accused the High Lord´s wife, _wife_, the _High Lord´s_ wife, of being unfaithful. Why not just call Akkarin of family Delvon, House Velan, a traitor to his face, now that she was already about to dig her own grave. A grave he did not intend to lie in next to her.

He would have to take immediate action. His mind was feverishly searching for the best option, already thinking the afternoon could not get any worse, when he noticed that all the shocked gazes were no longer resting on him, but were focused on the entrance to the Novices´ Quarters.

Slowly, he turned around, dread at what he would find there filling him. Regin stared open-mouthed at the two figures that stood framed in the doorway. "B-but," he stuttered rather stupidly, "but I didn´t invite those two!"

_Oh, by all the powers, they heard._


	14. Crossways

**A/N: So, I have finally managed to update ;-)**** This is a transitional one, I guess. I like it, even if it is short. Do you? I have a new first person point of view... dundun dun...nah, you have to read it to find out! Enjoy! And review pluuuuuuueeeeeaaaasseee *puppy eyes***

CHAPTER 14

Crossways

The absolute silence that followed the young woman´s emotional outburst was deafening. Regin barely registered how his hands were clenched into fists. His knuckles stood out white from the taut skin. His heart beat a frantic rhythm. For once in his life he felt utterly at a loss. How could he salvage the shreds of his dignity?

While a storm raged inside the young man´s head in the outside world mere seconds had passed since the door had opened to admit the two figures now moving into the hallway.

One of them was lean and of average height. His red-blond hair was bound back with a brown leather-cord. It matched his rather tight-fitting brown- and golden-coloured clothes perfectly. Full lips and sparkling green eyes dominated his handsome face. In spite of the awkward situation he drew all the eyes of the young noblewomen. Regin stared at him and swallowed.

The other figure was tall and loomed over his companion. His dark hair was tousled and resembled one of the cleaning devices the Guild servants used to clear the ceilings of cobwebs and spiders. Or so Regin thought after having ripped his gaze from the other man.

The pair came to stand before him and Sonea, who seemed to be similarly astounded to see the two new arrivals. The brutally polite expression on the younger man´s face brought Regin back to the present.

"I..." He drew a deep breath and spun to face Sonea. Between the duty to welcome his new guests and the duty to atone for the affront of his social companion towards his guest of honour he found the latter to be the more pressing one. He swept into the prescribed position of apology.

"Lady Sonea, wife of my High Lord and that of all the others here present, I cannot express the depth of chagrin and outrage I feel in face of such an utter disgrace. I am deeply shamed that such an occurrence should take place at my party. I take full responsibility for any grievance you have suffered for this. Please let me start to make amends to you immediately."

Regin of Winar straightened and fixed his blazing eyes on the source of his humiliation. His tone was icy-cold. He raised his right hand accusingly and held up two fingers in a prayer-like gesture. "Issle, novice of the Magicians´ Guild of Kyralia, I no longer recognise you as my equal. I no longer see you or hear you. You are banished from my thoughts, my heart and my memories. I have never known you." His gaze left her.

Gasps echoed through the hallway. The host had just invoked the oldest and most severe social denunciation possible. As an adult male of his family and therefore representative of his House, he had severed all connections to the woman and by extension her immediate family.

Such an occurrence was very, very rare as this was a nearly unresolvable slight. Blood had been spilled over it many times. The reconciliation of the offending parties was precariously balanced on a social two-edged sword. If the offended House was open to an apology from the offending House and the latter was willing to accept the verdict on the head of its own member and punished the guilty according to the crime committed, then, and only then could both Houses agree that satisfaction had been met. If, however, the accused House found its member slighted unjustly they were allowed to take this before the King and demand satisfaction, sometimes even a duel, from the monarch.

Thus Regin´s deed caused such a stir in the audience. Clearly they all wanted to know why the young Winar had reacted in such a manner. Of course, Issle had behaved unforgivably rude, but to invoke such a powerful inter-house conflict? Little did they know, that he asked himself the very same question.

As if in a trance, Regin heard Lord Dannyl speak in a loud and clear voice. "The standard of banishment has been invoked. The accused must now leave the accuser´s presence. The accused must immediately face her family and await their verdict. Leave, now." Issle left, tears brimming in her eyes. She sobbed silently.

"The accuser must leave immediately and await his family´s verdict. Leave now."

Regin knew he had no choice. _By all the powers, how has this evening gotten out of control so quickly? Why on earth did I do this?_ His eyes once again met the green ones of the stranger. The other man´s gaze was piercing and powerful. Regin shuddered and quickly ducked out of the room. Through the door he could still hear the alchemist speaking.

"You all bear witness to the standard invoked. If called you will give your view on this matter in an unbiased and dignified manner as befitting to the noble Houses you are descended from. This party is now over. Return to your rooms."

In spite of the rules, Regin lingered in the adjoining hallway. They had to come out soon, didn´t they? They would have to pass the little alcove he was now hiding in. He needed a last view, needed to understand.

And just as he had predicted, the door opened and released Sonea and the two men. Sonea looked confused and frightful. The two males wore serious expressions.

Regin watched and sighed. His heart had just missed a beat and a forbidden thought fought to be acknowledged. He slammed down his mental barriers.

_No, not yet, not now. Not when I am vulnerable like this._

Yes, he knew, deep down. He knew why he had needed to put down Issle and free himself of her. He knew.

And for the first time in quite a time Regin of Winar of House Paren was mortally afraid.

TBMD TBMD TBMD

Tayend of Tremmelin strode ahead of his two companions. His red-blond hair was dancing in its confines. They were on their way to the High Lord´s residence. His lover was talking to the young woman in soothing tones.

Lady Sonea had been visibly shaken before. A giddy, nearly hysterical mood seemed to have taken over though. As far as he could deduce it was that kind of completely insane, painful kind of silliness that could overtake a human in moments of great emotional stress or excessive demands. Dannyl repeated inanities like 'everything would be alright again' and 'not to worry' as if in prayer. Then silence reigned, punctuated only by the occasional shakily indrawn breath. The three companions moved forward, each one fighting their own inner turmoils, until suddenly Tayend´s keen ears picked up on a suddenly not-so-silent conversation being carried on behind his back.

Dannyl´s voice was the first to announce in a stage-whisper, "So, that´s him."

"Him as in him?"

"Yes, him as in him."

"Hmm."

"Hmm, what?"

"Nice hair."

Tayend decided to humour the pair and shook his hair, exaggerating the bounce in it. The last rays of the evening sun sparkled in the silky waves. It didn´t hurt knowing that it looked gorgeous.

"Good legs, too."

Tayend started elongating his steps, displaying his calves to their full advantage, not missing one beat on his swaying hair.

"These trousers are rather tight-fitting, aren´t they?"

The Elynian man added an elegant sway to his hips thus accentuating this particular attribute. He knew this drove Dannyl wild. He resisted the temptation to look back to see the lust on his lover´s face.

"Well-tones arms, as well."

Tayend felt an undeniable urge to stretch his arms and arch his body. A gasp from behind. Gloat.

"Small, elegant hands. More like that of an artist than a scholar, I think."

He had to righten his tail right now, didn´t he? His hands flew to the leather-cord and loosened it. They played with his hair, ruffling it, smoothing it, ruffling it, smoothing it until he was satisfied with the results and fastened the cord again. All the while his hands were painting intricate patterns in the air, every movement that of a dancer´s.

"And from what I could see he really has a nicely-shaped mouth and nose. What colour are the eyes?"

"Green." The answer was delivered in a breathy, ragged kind of way. Gloat.

"So, all in all —"

Tayend smirked and looked seductively over his shoulder at the girl or rather woman he had heard so much about.

"I´d say _acceptable_."

"Excuse me?" The Elynian stumbled over his own feet in his indignation and barely managed to stay upright. He rotated once around his own axis and came to face his two companions.

Sonea and Dannyl looked at each other, swallowed, grew red in the face and finally broke down with laughter at the righteous outrage on his face. Even though Tayend understood why Dannyl had edged her on like this and why it was good to have her laugh in face of what had just transpired the vain part of him felt a little put out. One look into the pleading eyes of his lover, however, immediately softened his expression and he bowed exaggeratedly.

"Lady Sonea, I am deeply honoured to make your acquaintance and can only hope to be able to meet your exacting standards in other areas then."

Sonea accepted his bow graciously and smiled up at their companion. "Well-mannered and witty as well as beautiful? Well done, Dannyl."

This time her smile was rewarded with a glowing one from the Elynian. He liked her. She was a born player even though a bit un-honed still. He would love to get his fingers on her and tutor her in the fine arts of verbally dissecting your political enemies in the most well-spoken manners.

The novice stepped closer and embraced him. Her eyes met his. Tayend already knew that Sonea accepted his nature and Dannyl´s, but it was still a bit of a shock to see the deep and effortless acceptance in the dark orbs.

"Thank you", he said still holding her in his arms. "I can see why Akkarin would choose you and not one of those dull and boring dolls the houses seem to breed en masse. You truly are special."

"That she is."

Tayend immediately jumped back and released Sonea´s arms. It had been years since he had heard that voice, but he would recognise it anywhere. He turned around and bowed.

"High Lord."

Tayend of Tremmelin found himself looking at an older version of the attractive, dark and mysterious young man he had led through the Great Library so many years ago. He was still breathtaking and he now exuded an aura of power that had only been a promise when he had first met the red-robed warrior. The black robes accentuated his tall frame and sharp features. Tayend immediately noticed that the older man had taken to wearing his hair in a rather old-fashioned way. Maybe to emphasise his maturity and stature? His thoughts were interrupted when the object of his contemplation elegantly unfurled his hand and offered it to him.

"Tayend of Tremmelin, it is a pleasure to make your reacquaintance. I had hoped to meet you next Freeday and here we are already. May I enquire as to your presence here in the Guild?"

Tayend couldn´t stop the shivers that ran up his arm at the High Lord´s touch, formal though it was. To think of the power these hands wielded, the strength simmering in these dark eyes. Not to forget the deliciously firm ass he remembered. A raised eyebrow made him realise that he still owed an answer.

"High Lord, it is a joy and an honour to see you again. My being here, well —"

He stopped at that unsure of how much Dannyl would want his leader to know. He was saved from further awkwardness by Sonea. The young woman stepped forward and inclined her head in a respectful gesture, respectful, but still informal as befitting to a family member in the presence of outsiders.

She smiled at her husband then and he returned the smile. His stern features softened and Tayend drew in a deep breath at how much the smiling version of the Guild´s troubled leader remembered him of the driven, enthusiastic young man who had been so full of faith and determination to put his mark on this world. He had done that, certainly. Only not in the way he himself or anyone else could have predicted.

"I think it would be best if we moved this into the residence," Sonea said with a meaningful calm so unusual for someone her age.

The black magician did not react outwardly at this declaration. With nonchalance, he extended his arm in one fluid motion, encompassing all three of the companions. "As you wish, my dear. If you´d care to follow me?" His dark gaze, however, bore into each of them, weighing, testing, threatening. It at least felt this way for Tayend.

A touch at the small of his back, fleeting, but warm and reassuring. Dannyl had moved behind him and coaxed him along. Sonea walked beside her husband. They were not touching.

The sound of energetic voices and shrill laughter announced the arrival of the other witnesses to the Tea Party disaster. With silent consent, the group heightened their pace until they reached the forbidding sight of the High Lord´s residence. Tall and dark like its current occupant, it seemed to swallow the light and everyone who displeased its master and was foolish enough to enter.

Tayend snorted at his own dramatics. Dannyl looked over at him, a questioning expression on his face, but the Elynian man just smiled nervously and shook his head.

The door opened and closed. Silence ensued. Not speaking a single word the High Lord led his guests towards the assembled seats before the fireplace. Subconsciously Tayend and Dannyl lowered themselves next to each other on a couch for support. Sonea took her place in a separate chair next to them.

This finally forced one of the High Lord´s eyebrows to rise, Tayend noted. The Lady had chosen to sit with the accused, eh?

The voice that finally broke the silence was cold and precise. Gone was the loving husband, distant friend and cherished old acquaintance. In their place sat the ruler of the Magicians´ Guild of Kyralia, powerful, cunning, highly intelligent and with magical skills and powers wide beyond any imagination.

"Explain yourselves. Now."


	15. The Ambassador

**A/N: Hello everyone. Here´s chappie 15, finally. I am hoping it is to your satisfaction, as usual, and I´d be glad to get feedback. For now, though, enjoy.**

CHAPTER 15

The Ambassador

The High Lord found himself intrigued by the strange coalition facing him. His wife and Dannyl seemed to have grown closer over the last few weeks, though he couldn´t put his finger on the exact point of time. That was a development he wasn´t certain he approved of.

Oh, not because of the subject of Sonea´s affection, but rather out of concern for her welfare. Sonea would need another friend besides her guardian in time to come and according to his plans, Dorrien wouldn´t be around to be that friend. He was quite certain that his wife was going to feel this vacancy with sharp acuteness. Since he planned to involve Dannyl in the war as well, Akkarin feared that Sonea might be left behind heartbroken in a time when he would not be able to provide the necessary support for he himself had to abandon her more often than he should.

A now familiar twinge of guilt made itself known. How love weakened men at times, the High Lord thought. Even though the three other occupants did not see him change his expression, Akkarin berated himself inside for that thought. It was his old wounded, loathing and distrustful self that had told him things like that in order to make him bear the barren years of cold solitude and denial after he had returned to the Guild.

Maybe it was this inner conflict that coloured his voice with icy undertones when he addressed the three companions.

"Explain yourselves. Now."

Dannyl stood up and bowed very formally. The High Lord was surprised when the Alchemist did not address him by his title but rather his full name. "Akkarin of Family Delvon, House Velan, the standard of banishment has been invoked in favour of one of your house. The accused has left to face her family and await their verdict. The accuser has left to face his family and await their verdict."

The High Lord´s expression was unreadable when he rose and accepted the traditional declaration. "Lord Dannyl, I have heard from your lips, that the standard of banishment has been invoked in favour of one of my house. Who is the offended party?"

"Your wife, Sonea of Family Delvon, House Velan."

"Is the offended party concordant with the accusing party?"

"No, my Lord. The accuser is Regin of Family Winar, House Paren. Regin has left to speak with his parents and Lord Garrell."

"Thank you, Lord Dannyl. And the accused?"

"Issle, novice of the Magician´s Guild of Kyralia. She has also left to see her family."

"I see. Who stands witness to the act that led to the invocation?"

"I do, as do Tayend of Tremmelin and all the novices present at the Tea Party."

Akkarin´s eyes sought out his wife´s. "Tea Party?"

Sonea was still a bit pale, he noticed. It took a lot to shake her calm, he knew. Something really disturbing must have happened. Her voice, however, did not waver when she stood up and answered him. She calmly met his gaze.

"Yes, Tea Party. Regin invited me over during class this morning. You may remember, that he told me he had changed before his act of heroism during the battle. Therefore he saw it fit to throw that little party for me. Can´t say I have been the guest of honour in any situation before."

Momentarily forgetting the other two men in the room with them, Akkarin couldn´t desist from asking incredulously, "Regin invited _you_ as guest of honour?"

A hurt look crossed over Sonea´s face. "Yes, _me_."

"And you went there?"

"Well, you were the one to tell us all that it was time to lay old prejudices aside and start to unite and so on."

"I was talking about the _Sachakans_. Did you not think that it might be dangerous to go there? He could have planned something, he could have —"

"See, that´s exactly what I have been talking about. I thought you said to make new friends."

"Friends, yes, but did you have to start with Regin of all people?"

"I happen to believe him. I think he is genuine."

"Oh, and that´s why the party was all smooth and easy-going? Leaving aside the little fact that the standard of banishment had to be evoked? Do you have any idea how serious that is?"

"Hey, I did not evoke that banishment, Regin did and in fact everything was settling down when that little...when Issle decided to go all jealous on me."

"You still shouldn´t have gone, at least not without talking to me."

"Well, I asked Rothen and he said yes."

"I would never have permitted you to go unaccompanied."

"Well, I am lucky than, that you are not my guardian anymore, am I not?"

Silence fell upon the room like a heavy, suffocating blanket. The tension in the air was becoming unbearable very fast. It was the High Lord who broke the silence with measured and painfully neutral words.

"You are right, Sonea, I am not. However, I am your husband and your High Lord. I will speak to you in the last capacity now. As for the first, the issue will be resolved between us two when we are alone, as is appropriate. For now, you will sit down."

Uncompromising onyx met furious black. With the slightest tightening of her eyes Sonea finally relented and sat down. She wouldn´t meet his gaze anew.

Akkarin felt that to be an empty victory. Once again he had had to hurt her, maintaining his role as Leader of the Guild, maintaining the rules he had been brought up to believe in, forcing his beloved wife into a constricting social corset where she was born to be soaring free. He had sacrificed so much already for saving the Guild and for saving Kyralia. It was at times like these when Akkarin wondered just how far he would go to see his task through. He knew he was going to make decisions that would hurt his wife, in the name of the greater good, in the name of his one unwavering allegiance. And he hated himself for that. He shouldn´t have given in, he should have set her free instead of binding her to him in her moment of weakness, her moaning for him. He was quite certain that despite her years in the Guild, she hadn´t truly known what his being the High Lord again meant, for them, for her, for their relationship.

He pushed those thoughts aside. Now was not the time to dwell on them. He faced the other magician again. "Lord Dannyl, tell me how the standard was invoked."

"Yes, High Lord. Tayend and I arrived at the party a short while ago. From the music and the setting of the tables I understood that the dancing was about to commence. It was when Regin asked your wife to dance that his companion for the evening reacted."

Here the tall man paused, very much aware of the delicate matter of the topic. However, he forced himself to go on. "The young woman seemed to have misunderstood the nature of the host´s, eh, gesture."

Here, Tayend snorted and found himself fixated upon by two sets of eyes immediately. "Well, come on, Dannyl, you are never going to get to the point at this rate. You Kyralians. She called her a, well let me think, ah, yes, a 'man-stealing, promiscuous bitch', those were her words exactly." Obviously the Elynian man had overcome the initial shock of seeing Akkarin of Delvon again.

Dannyl continued. "Which spurred young Regin to this rather _dramatic _solution we currently find ourselves facing."

"Then again, his social companion had just insulted the High Lord´s wife, who also happened to be the guest of honour, in front of witnesses. If that had been me, I would have gone for the grand gesture, you know, dagger in the heart and all that."

Tayend finished his statement with a perfect emulation of the act. The Alchemist grinned openly now, and a quick glance at Sonea showed a tentative smile on her face too.

Tayend of Tremmelin certainly was one of those people who operated best when his friends were in tight corners. He was a just-the-man-to-save-the-day type and was very talented at diffusing tension. Just as Akkarin had remembered him to be. He would be a great asset to Dannyl´s mission in more ways than one.

"I see. Once again I thank you Lord Dannyl and you, Tayend of Tremmelin, for your candid words. In essence, the girl let her jealousy take over without considering the consequences. That is a dishonour to her Family certainly, I wouldn´t think that the full enactment of the statement will be needed, however. I wish Issle to be able to finish her education. A formal apology and a price of satisfaction will be needed, however. I shall advise both Families accordingly. For formalities sake I must ask you, Sonea, whether there was any reason for the young woman to react the way she did."

Sonea simply shook her head and met his gaze fleetingly, accusation still lingering in the black orbs. _Oh, they will talk_, her eyes promised him. _This isn´t over_.

"High Lord, if I may?"

"Yes, Tayend?"

"I would like to share an observation, though I am well aware that this is speculation."

"Go on."

"Well, the young Lord seemed to be quite shaken by the events, as could be expected. On closer look, however, he seemed to be relieved as well. I am not certain what made me look twice, but something about him was suspicious, though I haven´t quite grasped what it was. Call it court instincts."

"I seem to remember that you had a fine nose for court procedures, Tayend."

In the peripherals of his vision, Akkarin could see Dannyl grinning delightedly at his last comment and Tayend rolling his eyes coquettishly. That had to be some kind of familiar joke between the two men. He decided to ignore this intermezzo for the time being.

"Which is another reason why I wanted to see you this Freeday. It was my wish to inquire into whether you would be amenable towards a mission for the Guild in collaboration with Lord Dannyl here. As it happens dealings with Sachaka have progressed rather faster than I anticipated. Please sit down again. I would think we have settled the other affair, leave the rest to me. Let us discuss the mission I have for you two."

The three men joined Sonea again. She offered both guests a quick smile, but still ignored him. Akkarin sighed inwardly. That was another behaviour ill-befitting for a noblewoman, especially the High Lord´s wife. He would have to admonish her for that once again. Later.

"As you know, I have returned from the King´s palace only moments ago. As it happens, I have a task for you, Lord Dannyl, and a request to make of you, Tayend of Tremmelin. A task, as I have already said, I thought could wait till Freeday. But now—"

And the High Lord proceeded to tell the two men what would be required of them. With each sentence, more thunderclouds seemed to appear on his wife´s face. Akkarin finished, but before either of the men could say something, Sonea´s voice cut through the momentary silence.

"May I be excused? Please?" She still wouldn´t meet his eyes.

Akkarin was well aware of the icy undertone. He rose and the other two men followed suit. "Of course, Sonea."

"Dannyl, Tayend", his wife curtsied and inclined her head.

"Sonea", their voices echoed.

Without a backward glance, she left the room and ascended the stairs on the left of the room. Once again, guilt made itself known in Akkarin´s heart and mind, and once again he forced it back, concentrating on the task at hand.

It was half an hour later when the Alchemist and his companion left the residence.

The High Lord exhaled slowly and allowed himself to slump in his chair. Akkarin closed his eyes. He wasn´t looking forward to the confrontation he was sure was about to happen. He was wrought up and exhausted. An ironic smile graced his lips when he remembered that he had hoped to find solace in his wife´s arms and body tonight.

Finally, the tall man sighed once more, before standing up and slowly making his way towards the stairs.

_TBMD TBMD TBMD_

_How dare he? How can he do this to me? _

Sonea was seething. Seething and pacing, from the foot of their bed to the left window of their bedroom and back. Turn. And back again. Her already accelerated heartbeat had nearly doubled since the moment her husband had revealed his plans for her two friends.

After the seemingly never-ending challenges at Regin´s Party and its final, dramatic conclusion, she had been hoping for a quiet, peaceful evening. She had imagined herself being enfolded in Akkarin´s protective embrace, being able to share her mind openly and being comforted.

That image had helped her to calm down, as had her two friends. Yes, she already considered Tayend of Tremmelin one. Clearly, he had been trying to distract her, and had done so with graceful ease, and Sonea was thankful. Furthermore, she had found the two men rather sweet and perfectly matched.

When they had met her husband on their way to the residence, she had been happy and relieved. He had been away all day long and the two of them barely had time for each other these days. She had extensive learning and training to do and Akkarin was bound to be at court more often than not.

How could all of that have gone so completely wrong?

Well, all had started to go downhill when her husband had decided to patronise her and dictate to her who she could be friends with. _How dare this man judge her and make her appear guilty for what that cow did? How—_

The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted her inner ramblings. The sound grew louder and finally stopped in front of the door. It swung open and the High Lord stepped inside. He closed the door, then turned around without moving further into the room.

A thick and heavy silence permeated the room. Sonea lifted her chin defiantly and stared at the black-robed man. She was standing at the edge of the bed.

His dark gaze met hers unwaveringly. He was the one to break the silence. "We should talk."

"I guess."

"Maybe we should sit down?"

"Going to order me to do so again?"

"Sonea." A warning tone had crept into his voice.

She chose to ignore it. "Akkarin," the single word held a clear challenge.

Her husband now showed obvious signs of anger. "So, that is how it is going to be, is it? That is not what I had hoped to find here returning after hours of suffering those fools in the palace."

"Oh, whereas my evening was all peachy, apart from the little fact that I have been insulted in front of every single noteworthy novice in the Guild, been called a _promiscuous bitch_ no less, had to deal with all of their little ploys to make me trip socially, then seemed to be the reason Regin used this standard-thing, something I had never heard of before, other than knowing it to be bad and which made everyone go mad! So forgive me if I had hoped for something else as well!"

They stood facing each other, each heaving with self-righteous fury, each willing the other to acknowledge their respective dilemma. It was Akkarin who finally forced a smile. "Seems we both didn´t get what we wanted then, doesn´t it?"

Sonea nodded once, her stance relaxing minutely. "Seems so."

"Shall we start this discussion anew?"

"And pretend you didn´t just act like a self-righteous bastard down there?" Another challenging lift of her chin indicated that Sonea wasn´t quite ready to put her anger aside.

"I wouldn´t go so far as to call my behaviour such, but I concede that I assumed without hearing your version of the events and for that I offer my apologies."

Suddenly Sonea laughed mirthlessly which earned her a raised eyebrow. "Oh, still at court, are we? How refined you sound, my Lord, how eloquent and well-mannered. Well, for your information, you are home now and I am your wife, dammit. So don´t you dare to use these slippery-sweet tones with me!"

Her husband changed tactics, visibly drawing in a deep breath and releasing it. "Now listen, Sonea, I am just trying to be rational about this. I have to act in a certain manner, because apart from being your husband I am also the High Lord."

Akkarin visibly flinched when Sonea poured all of her pent-up anger, her hurt, fear and helplessness of the last weeks into her steely gaze.

"That, Akkarin, I know only too well. I seem to remember that I was away giving up my life, thinking you dead, while your main concern was to be re-established in the Guild. I seem to remember that you had already arranged our marriage before you even asked me. I seem to remember that you had already made promises to the King that would bind you to him again as tightly as if sewn with a needle. I _don´t_, however, seem to remember that I was asked if _I_ wanted any of these things."

"Sonea, I —"

"But I accepted all of that because I loved you! I would never, never have chosen this path for myself, Akkarin and you made it impossible for me to choose you without the Guild and all the nobles and all those things I am so unfamiliar with or even loathe. And still I kept supporting you! I even let your bi– of a, your mother dress me down in front of you. I started to speak like you, act like you and still no one accepts me. _Truly_ accepts me! I had a disastrous evening, you know? Every few minutes, another one of the novices would try to pull a trick on me, making me trip socially, so to speak. And do you know what was my greatest fear, Akkarin? It was not that I myself would be embarrassed. I have never cared about those superficial bigots before and I am not going to start now. No, you, it was you I was most concerned about. I was so, so frightened that I might embarrass you in some way! That´s not, I can´t...I cannot question myself at every turn without loosing my self-respect and self-worth. Can´t you see that? And all you do is reproach me and give me the feeling that I am still not doing well enough."

A sob was torn out of her body and tears started to stream down her cheeks. The High Lord took a step towards her, a miserable look on his face. He reached a hand towards her, but Sonea jerked her head to the other side and fled to the windows overlooking the Guild grounds. He made to follow, but she held up a hand.

"No, I am not finished. I need to get through with this."

Still he approached. "Please." He stopped and his concerned gaze met her tear-filled one. He nodded.

"I just don´t know whether I can do this anymore. Well, no, no that´s not quite right, I know I can bear these stuck-up fools and all their petty squabbling, but not without you or without friends. I need you as a husband and friend, not another noble whose expectations I can never fulfil. I am who I am and you knew this the first time you kissed me and you knew this when we were married. I can act for your sake, but don´t try to change who I am! I am Sonea, the slum-dweller who happened to develop magical powers on her own, the rogue, the disturbing influence, the first novice the High Lord has ever chosen. I am your companion from the wasteland and I am your wife and lover. Is that not enough?"

Her husband sighed and went back to the bed, sitting down. For the first time in their acquaintance, he wasn´t quite able to hold her gaze. He had become silent and his body-language spoke of sadness and guilt. Still, Sonea felt that she had to speak about all of her concerns, for if she didn´t, the chasm between them would grow deeper and deeper with time.

"And there is one last thing. Since it had become clear that I chose you, I have already lost my best friend - in a way. You know that Dorrien is still aching and I can understand that he needs his distance from me. That doesn´t change that I miss him, however. And now, that I have found new friends in Dannyl and Tayend you send them away on a mission, and a dangerous mission at that. Oh, I do understand why you chose them, but that doesn´t change how I feel about it. Then there is Regin and I know you don´t trust him, but it was my decision to go there and Rothen agreed. Do you honestly believe me to be easily fooled? I have started to think him genuine in his behaviour, so please let me handle him myself. I need someone here I can trust and who I can spend time with apart from Rothen. You are away most of the time, and I understand, I really do. You just need to fight this to the end, I guess, but please, let me cope with this my way."

Silence followed Sonea´s rush of words. She felt utterly exhausted, emotionally and physically. She also felt slightly guilty for having heaved all of her feelings on her husband´s shoulders, but there had been no stopping it once she had started. She walked over to her husband and lowered herself next to him onto their bed. She had channelled out all of her anger and hurt and was now strangely empty.

The evening breeze brushed through the trees outside, creating a rustling sound. The sun had abandoned the sky in favour of the moon, who bathed the world in a cool, soothing light. It made shadows dance a slow and graceful dance on all surfaces in the room.

The couple sat there in silence, both closer and more apart than before. The black-robed man finally turned his right hand palm-up on his lap and his wife´s smaller hand grasped it and squeezed.


	16. The workings of a true heart

**A/N: Dear readers, I am embarking on a very frightening journey here... for the first time in "Destiny" I am going to publish a chapter without it having been beta-ed first *gasp* I just figured you guys would rather read a chappie that´s not completely free of typos and such than none at all...right? ;-) So, here you go!**

**And since I have been such a bad girl and let you wait sooooo long I am going to put the end of the last chapter up here too, so that you won´t have to read it again.**

**Here goes**

Chapter 15:

Silence followed Sonea´s rush of words. She felt utterly exhausted, emotionally and physically. She also felt slightly guilty for having heaved all of her feelings on her husband´s shoulders, but there had been no stopping it once she had started. She walked over to her husband and lowered herself next to him onto their bed. She had channelled out all of her anger and hurt and was now strangely empty.

The evening breeze brushed through the trees outside, creating a rustling sound. The sun had abandoned the sky in favour of the moon, who bathed the world in a cool, soothing light. It made shadows dance a slow and graceful dance on all surfaces in the room.

The couple sat there in silence, both closer and more apart than before. The black-robed man finally turned his right hand palm-up on his lap and his wife´s smaller hand grasped it and squeezed.

CHAPTER 16

The workings of a true heart

Silence permeated the room. Only the soft breathing of the man and the woman and the harmonious orchestrations of the wind and leaves and trees outside could be heard for a long time.

It was that certain kind of silence that follows a truth finally spoken, a feeling finally set free a risk finally taken or a question finally asked. A silence needed by the upset heart and confused mind alike. Sonea knew that these truths had been bound to be said and heard sometime, but still she ached and feared and just hoped that everything would be right again. And yet, she kept her silence and waited.

Her small hand lay still nestled in the bigger and slender one of her husband. His hand was warm – and still, it lacked reassurance this night. She did not move, nor did she reach out with her magic. The man beside her breathed in and out, in and out, and she felt herself relax into the steady rhythm. Maybe she was so attuned to him after all the time spent in close company that it felt natural to adjust and take strength from him.

After an indefinable amount of time had passed the body next to hers tensed and relaxed again. Then she felt his other hand brush a wayward curl out of her face and linger under her chin in silent invitation. Sonea swallowed once then lifted her head and met his gaze calmly.

"When I was a slave and Kariko tortured my body and mind for endless hours with whippings and intricate horrific visions of the Guild and the whole of Kyralia in ashes I vowed to myself that I would do everything in my power to unmake the horrendous mistake my youthful foolishness made me commit. I felt the weight of my guilt each and every hour of the day. My own arrogance and stupidity had endangered my country. Here I was, Akkarin, beloved first son of the most noble family of Delvon, former heir to the post of the head of House Velan, overachieving, spoiled and reckless graduate, oh so self-assured in my own abilities and powers. I had betrayed everyone´s hopes, I had shown myself to be unworthy of all the praise and pride heaped on me. If not for _her, _I certainly would have searched for a way to end my life then and there."

Sonea squeezed his hand in understanding. Who was she to judge him, after all. She knew that kind of bottomless despair. Still, it hurt to hear him speak these thoughts aloud.

"Go on", she encouraged him.

"Well, you know the rest of the story, how I finally was able to free myself, how I killed all the others, how Takan saved me and how I finally came back to Kyralia bearing a horrible truth. Then I was made High Lord —"

Akkarin snorted self-deprecatingly. Sonea joined in his laughter. "Seems quite ironic now, doesn´t it?"

"Yes, you know, back then I did not have a choice. I was made High Lord, which of course was the greatest honour that could have been bestowed upon me. The whole Guild sang my praise, but they didn´t know what I had become. It was hollow praise, I couldn´t accept it. Then again, I could not have declined. It would have been too suspicious, a young upstart saying _no _to the most prestigious post in the whole country apart from the King and his advisors? If I had had a choice I would have gone underground long ago. I had convinced myself that I was the only solution to the threat no other Kyralian knew about. My original plan was to stage my death, make myself the secret weapon. Being the High Lord of course protected the country simply by letting Kariko know that I was alive and about. But imagine his assassins sent into our country mysteriously vanishing never to return? He´d have thought that Kyralia wielded an unknown force or hadn´t forsaken the old knowledge at all."

"You thought that you would be able to prevent the invasion like this?"

"Yes."

"I see. But, that´s not how it worked out."

"No, it´s not."

The High Lord released her hand and stood up walking over to the moonlit windows. His face was thrown into stark contrasts by the natural, soft light making his pale skin glow. His darkly clothed body seemed to melt into the background. He appeared to be weighing his next words carefully.

"Sonea, I would like to explain to you why I chose to return to the role of High Lord, if you are so inclined." Akkarin turned around and faced her, his eyes uncommonly warm and affectionate. "But first I would like to apologise to you." He stepped closer again. "I know that I bound you to a kind of life you never would have chosen willingly by making you marry me, but —"

"_Making_ me marry you?"

Her husband tensed obviously having recognised the dangerous undertones of her voice. He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Please, Sonea. I am not trying to make it sound as though I had any sway over your decision, I know that you are your own woman. What I want to say is, that _I _had an idea of what being my wife would mean for you, socially, publicly. _I _knew that you would be forced to do things you detested, behave in a way not natural to you. _I _could guess that the other nobles wouldn´t accept you easily or would even mistreat you. But —" Akkarin´s gaze dropped to the floor.

Sonea closed the rest of the distance between them until she was stood in front of him. "But?"

The black eyes that met hers once again were so full of passion and longing that Sonea swallowed once, deliberately. She didn´t move, however. Her husband stepped so close that they were now standing chest to chest. His arms drew her against him and his lips captured hers in a fierce possessive kiss.

"But I was an egoistic bastard and just couldn´t bear to lose you. I, I wasn´t sure whether you would have consented to becoming my wife, if...well, if —"

"If you´d been completely honest with me?"

"Yes. I´m sorry."

"You are an idiot."

He released her, surprise written all over his face. "I beg your pardon?"

"Well, I am not sure whether I should be more put out about the fact that you wilfully held back information from me or about the fact that you – even for one second – thought that this information would have made me abandon you! After all we had been through."

"I should have trusted you."

"Indeed, you big oaf."

One delicate eyebrow rose in a mock-threat. "Do you know who you are talking to, novice?"

"Yes, that tall and dangerous looking High Lord, who happens to be a first-rate dumb-mhhhh."

Her husband´s hand over her mouth prevented her inventive insult from reaching conclusion. Being stripped of the means to verbally fight him Sonea aimed a kick at his left foot and tried to unbalance him by suddenly turning her body sideways into his and bowing low. Unfortunately for her he had anticipated that move and elegantly whirled them around so that he was now standing behind her, his arms around her like vices, his lean chest pressed against her back. Akkarin´s arms were rubbing against her breasts and she could feel him begin to harden slightly against her lower back. He held her like that for a moment both savouring the sexual tension between them. Heat began to pool between Sonea´s thighs and she experimentally ground against him. Akkarin answered with a moan and an instictual thrust of his hips. They let their bodies speak for a moment.

However, after a too short span of time the High Lord stepped away and released her, his hand brushing comfortingly over the sides of her arms and finally turning her around again. His eyes held a gentle passion now.

"I still owe you an explanation", he simply said and she nodded.

"Shall we adjourn to the study, maybe?"

"No, let us just sit down on the bed again. At a safe distance if you need it." Sonea winked at him.

The aggressive atmosphere had been lifted between them. Now was neither the time for accusations nor carnal pleasures. It was time to understand the workings of a true heart.

_TBMD TBMD TBMD_

Regin was completely exhausted. After the fiasco of his Party and Issle´s utterly disgraceful and embarrassing behaviour and his subsequent activation of the standard of banishment he´d had been exposed to thorough questioning and of course a more than thorough scolding not only by his father and mother, but also by his uncle, which, in a way, had hurt even more.

He was on his way back to the Guild, alone. The coach was rocking him back and forth uncomfortably. Like a child he had been sent away when Lord Dannyl had arrived as a messenger from the High Lord.

"_Leave this discussion to the adults, Regin. I think you have done enough damage already. To think you have been raised in my home. I am truly und utterly disgusted. Get out from under my eyes. If this leads to a separation between our families do not dare to come back, ever."_

His mother´s cruel voice still echoed through his mind. He had cringed at the tone as he recognised it as the same contempt it had held when he had overheard her talking about the "slum-scum", Sonea. One decision following his heart, one decision true to his promise, one decision according to moral standards and he was being shunned, threatened and treated like dirt.

Regin was not used to this. Oh, he had always had to fulfil certain expectations and he had been hard pressed to shine next to his perfect older brother Sirian, but deep down he had always been convinced of his unshakable worth to his family and his superiority by being a Winar. He wasn´t so sure now. How could his mother threaten him with disinheritance and abandonment after he had done what was right? He had had to protect Sonea. She was the High Lord´s wife and thus a noblewoman by marriage. She had been the guest of honour, which had made the insult even more unacceptable.

Yes, he knew that Isidra loathed Sonea, but how could she let personal feelings interfere with politics? It was the nobles´ right and responsibility to stand above the common class and rule in educated aloofeness and strict moralistic standards. Wasn´t that what he had been taught his whole life?

The blond-haired novice shook his head. No, he didn´t want to dwell on this anymore. He would deal with it later. Just like he would with that other _issue._

For now he did not want to search himself for the reason just why he had been so relieved to get rid of Issle and why he had felt like he had stopped lying in a way. He did not want to analyse just why his eyes had strayed to this one person more than once and, damn it, more than fleetingly.

Some truths were best being left undiscovered, even if they were the workings of a true heart.

_TBMD TBMD TBMD_

Lord Balkan grunted, as he heaved yet another table back to its original place.

The Administrator had been contacted by all three Families involved in the standard of banishment and was currently acting as the High Lord´s messenger visiting the accused´s family. Lord Dannyl had been sent to the Winars.

Lord Osen had told him what had happened and had also revealed the High Lord´s decision concerning the standard and its consequences after he himself had been informed by Dannyl.

And then the Administrator had tasked him with the very prestigious work of clearing away the setting of the party and get the novices back into their respective quarters without a fuss. Osen had told him that his "no-nonsense"-attitude was exactly what was needed to rule in the overexcited group of novices. Balkan agreed after having had his first view of the disorganized mess the lingering fifth-years made of themselves.

Currently the young magicians had been returned to their personal quarters and Balkan and the Guild servants were finishing with the last tables and chairs.

The Warrior couldn´t shake the feeling that something was off about the whole situation. It wouldn´t have needed to escalate that much, now, did it? Why on earth would Regin of all people invoke the standard of banishment _in favour of _Sonea? And against his social companion?

Suddenly Balkan remembered the strange interaction between the two novices he had witnessed just this morning. He had had the feeling that something was going on even then. He had thought that Regin was up to something. Now, what was it?

Before Balkan would have concluded that the novice was planning something to get back at Sonea for giving him his most humiliating public thrashing months ago. But now? Could Regin be in love with the High Lord´s wife against all odds?

Such a feeling in itself wasn´t punishable, of course, but further interaction would have to be restricted and maybe even monitored should the young man behave inappropriately.

The red-robed man sighed. What a mess. He decided to take one closer look at Regin´s quarters while the novice was away. Should he find no further hints he would let things settle themselves. However should he find any discriminating evidence he´d immediately inform the High Lord.

_TBMD TBMD TBMD_

Isidra of Winar was seething as seemed to be her habit as of late. How could that worthless bit of scum manipulate her son this way? She had sacrificed everything for her two sons. She had taught them to be proud and worthy sons of House Paren.

As such her youngest was not supposed to invite that filthy upstart to a party of his, even less make her the guest of honour! What had made him embarrass his family in such a manner? Oh, the shame of having to receive the High Lord´s messenger and having to graciously accept his token of forgiveness.

Akkarin would never fall for Liviana now. He would never forgive Regin´s blunder, or rather that of his social companion.

Oh, all the meticulously created plans now laid to waste.

The noblewoman´s furious thoughts were interrupted when a servant knocked on the door to her rooms and was bid to enter.

"My Lady, Lady Daidra wishes to speak to you. May I escort her to the little saloon?"

"No, lead her here. Now!"

"As you wish, my Lady."

Isidra was feverishly pacing up and down. The silken material of her voluminous gown made a soft swishing sound at each turn.

"Isidra, stop your infernal pacing, it´s unbecoming."

Regin´s mother looked up to see the Head of House Velan standing in the doorway, unannounced. The servant was nowhere to be seen. Her guest quirked an eyebrow at her.

"I know how to handle servants, Isidra, and I know my way around here."

"Daidra, dearest, I am so glad you came."

Both women inclined their heads then settled down on two chairs facing the fireplace. The High Lord´s mother seemed unperturbed by the night´s events.

"How can you be so calm, Daidra? Everything is lost. Lost!"

"Oh, please. There always is a way to twist things to serve one´s purpose. Actually this little foolish episode might yet play into our hands. Listen."

_TBMD TBMD TBMD_

The High Lord looked into his wife´s eyes and thanked the powers silently for having granted him such a fierce and yet so soft and understanding companion. Sonea never shirked away from a confrontation, but usually she would reign in her temper eventually and be open to his explanations.

"This is not easy for me," he ventured and received a slow nod. "I have become used to not having to explain my actions at all. Before we were discovered no one questioned my decisions apart from the official discussions inside established rules. And even then in the end I always managed to sway them my way. Which of course was part of my job."

"Stop sidestepping, Akkarin. I already know, why you didn´t tell me before and I also know how difficult it is for you to share your private thoughts. I appreciate your making this admission for me, but please don´t stall."

"You are right, Sonea, and I apologise, again."

His wife smiled. By the powers she was beautiful. It had been a wonder to see her grow from that awkward slightly rough street girl with spiky unkempt hair into the elegant and poised woman she was now. Yes, she deserved to understand his actions more than anyone else.

"So, why did I choose to re-establish myself in the Guild along with yourself? First of all, I still felt responsible for the safety of Kyralia. I knew that no one would be more suited to the job. This isn´t meant to sound arrogant. It is a fact that I alone know the whole history of our confrontation and I alone had the power and the knowledge necessary to finish this conflict. Oh, I know that you share this power and forbidden knowledge, Sonea, but you would never have been in a position influential enough to make the Guild do what must be done.

Secondly I wanted to save us. Being reaccepted back into the Guild was paramount to ensure that we wouldn´t be exiled again. Oh, polititians have long memories and are a spiteful lot, believe me. Even after spilling your blood in defense of your country there will always be people to point their fingers at you and remind everyone that you are the bad guy, the traitor and black magician. I knew that I had to use the euphoria after the war and the impact my mysterious survival made to fight this fight. It was important I took action immediately. I needed to secure our place while they were all awed and grateful. That, unfortunately made it impossible to first approach you and let you know I was alive. I am deeply sorry for that. It must have felt like betrayal to see me alive and back in my post without the slightest hint in advance.

Please believe me when I say that had I had a choice I wouldn´t have considered revealing myself for the next three months! Instead I would have spirited you away and made love to you again and again, every night and during the day in every conceivable position."

Two pairs of dark eyes were smoldering and the temperature of the room seemed to have risen suddenly. Yet, both occupants remained in a chaste distance to each other acknowledging that there were still some things left unsaid. Akkarin cleared his throat.

"What you don´t know is that I wasn´t even bargaining for my old position when I first revealed myself."

"What? I don´t understand? But, how?"

"It was Merin who offered the position to me."

"The King? Really, but he was the one to decree we be exiled and he was the one who —"

"I know. I don´t think he would have considered it, would not that bastard Iniko have chosen this very moment to sent us the images of the farmer family being murdered."

His wife shuddered and looked very sad. He was certain that she was thinking of Lia, who had been brutally orphaned through the malice of just one twisted individual and his plans for revenge.

"King Merin didn´t want to be accused of not believing me a second time and to the detriment of his people, I guess. However, I wouldn´t have had to accept, did I?"

"I honestly don´t know, Akkarin."

"I have told you why I returned to the Guild. I have to confess that there were also selfish reasons for accepting my post back.

I wanted to be recognised for what I had sacrificed just once. Here the chance to finally openly fight was dangled in front of my face. They knew what I was and yet they decided to trust me. Years and years of secrecy and deceit, finally gone. I would be able to really be myself and be a High Lord who would be approachable and a teacher as well as a leader.

Oh, Sonea, I am ashamed to admit it, but I wanted them to accept me and need me. I wanted to stop being alone."

Akkarin felt tears rise in his eyes and for once did nothing to suppress them. "You, Sonea, you made me feel again. You showed me what it was like to have companionship and friendship and trust. I wanted it, every bit I could get of it."

His wife shifted closer and traced the tracks the tears had left on his face with one finger. He closed his eyes and allowed himself the exhilarating feeling of total trust and acceptance. Her hand brushed away the last remnants of the salty tears.

When the High Lord opened his eyes he found his wife looking at him with compassion and love mirrored in the depths of the black orbs.

"Thank you", she whispered and kissed him softly.

He cupped her face in his hands and leaned his forehead against hers. "No, Sonea, thank _you_."

And while the pair whispered reassurances to each other a red-robed figure hurried towards the High Lord´s residence, a paper clutched in his hand.


	17. Escalations

**A/N: Dear readers, I am deeply sorry for making you wait so long for the continuation of this story. And maybe even more so for what I have to add. I will not be able to continue for quite some time as I am currently facing the finals of my studying and education. Those are frightening beasts, I can tell you ;-) Anyhow, do not expect any updates before late April. But rest assured that this story will be finished! I am not going to abandon it. I am just reaaaalllly, reeeaaaally slow about it. **

**On we go. Oh, and please note that once again this chappie hasn´t been beta-ed.**

**Moony, what happened to you? My brilliant beta has somehow vanished. I am quite concerned, cause I cannot seem to reach her via mail or pm. (se-kari). She has been a great support and made the story flow better with her suggestions and corrections. Miss you!**

CHAPTER 17

Escalations

Aknock alerted the High Lord and his wife to Takan´s presence. Akkarin bid him enter, curious as to what the servant would want at that time of day. It was unusual for his old friend to contact him once he had retired, especially in the company of his wife.

"Lord Balkan is here to see you, Master."

"Balkan?" Akkarin sought out his wife´s gaze raising an eyebrow in silent question. Sonea simply shrugged. "What does he want, Takan?"

"I cannot say, Master, but it seemed urgent."

The black-robed magician sighed and stood up moving away from the bed. When he reached the door he looked back ruefully. "No peace for us today, I fear. Once again my post claims me. I´m sorry."

"Don´t be. Just get back here quickly." She smiled.

The High Lord stepped out of the room, straightened his robes and settled his face in an expression of mild reproach. He did not like to be called at at this time of day. Even Lord Osen had learned that by now. Then again the old Warrior certainly wouldn´t contact him if it wasn´t important.

Takan led the way down the stairs and into the study of the High Lord´s residence. The Warrior was pacing up and down clearly agitated. When the High Lord entered the older man approached and bowed.

"High Lord."

"Lord Balkan, what brings you here at that late hour?"

"A rather, eh, delicate matter, my Lord." Balkan gazed at Takan, who had remained inside the room standing at attention. "Maybe we should discuss this in private."

"Very well, shall Takan bring us a glass of wine first?"

Akkarin was now very curious. The red-robed magician wasn´t easily flustered. Something must have shattered his calm. It certainly was unusual for him to not sense his displeasure and apologise accordingly.

"Yes, please", the older man said and absentmindedly combed his left hand through his hair his other clamped around a piece of paper. "Maybe that would be for the best."

This was getting rather odd. What could have the man´s robes in such a twist that he would be that affected? The High Lord stepped closer to his old comrade and teacher, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Balkan."

Finally he was granted a direct and unwavering gaze, bringing back the man he knew. The red-robed man gripped his extended arm with his left hand, completing the male half-embrace his superior had offered.

"Akkarin, I have failed you."

"I cannot imagine you have, Balkan. Come. Sit down."

The two men settled into the chairs by the fire. Takan, who had left to fetch the wine, returned and offered them both a long-stemmed glass filled with sparkling deep-red liquid before bowing and leaving them alone again. The Head of the Warriors and the High Lord each sampled the wine and leaned back in the chairs, the latter watching his guest over the rim of his glass with a mixture of unbelieving certainty and unacknowledged trepidation. Had something gone wrong with the volunteers? Had there been another rogue?

"Now, tell me. What makes you judge yourself so harshly?"

"I feel I have made myself guilty of not having protected your wife early and insistently enough."

Akkarin was caught off guard. This had to do with Sonea? Again? First the standard of banishment, now his old comrade´s surprising admission?

"I fear I do not understand. Please elaborate."

"Before I start, I´d like to have your permission to speak frankly even should I be forced to speak ill of one of our Guild members. What I have to impart is mostly based on my own impressions and gut-instincts, nevertheless I have learned in many a battle that I have to trust my inner warnings."

"You may speak freely, Balkan. I will hear you out as a friend rather than your High Lord as far as that will be possible for me. I cannot promise anything more, as you well know."

Lord Balkan seemed to be relieved and grateful, so Akkarin had read him correctly. The old Warrior feared to invoke another feud in the Guild, between powerful Houses most likely. And one House, the High Lord assumed, would be his own.

"Thank you, Akkarin. I first felt those inner warnings, so to speak, when I was supervising your wife and Regin of Winar this morning. Something about the way they interacted, or rather the way he interacted with her seemed to be, well, maybe not inappropriate, but certainly uncommon."

Regin! Again. The High Lord felt his own misgivings rear their heads, but he had promised Sonea to trust her with this strange development just a few minutes ago, hadn´t he?

"I know of the young Winar´s _efforts_ towards my wife, Balkan. I ask you to treat this as personal information, _Sonea_ believes him to be genuine in his promise to change his views."

"Forgive me for being so frank, but you do not seem to agree with your wife?"

Ah, so the old fox had heard the slight inflection despite _his_ efforts. No other than a Head of the Guild would have dared to call him out on it, certainly. Then again he had always valued Lord Balkan´s direct, honest and steady ways. He locked eyes with the man sitting in front of him. This was a very precarious situation.

"It is in my nature as a politician to second-guess dramatic changes such as this. I find I cannot discard certain habits easily."

"I understand. I myself wasn´t sure what to make of his behaviour this morning. Coming back here after my visit to the Volunteers and finding the Guild in an uproar about the rather dramatic conclusion of Regin´s little gathering I decided to, ehm, investigate further."

Akkarin leaned forward in his chair subconsciously. His body tensed subtly. His expression, however, did not waver from open albeit controlled interest.

"And?"

A heavy silence followed his short question. Both men seized each other up, weighing how to proceed. The High Lord´s gaze never strayed from the Warrior´s blue eyes. Instead of the unreadable, uncompromising black stare he sometimes employed as High Lord, however the black-robed man allowed his eyes to convey some of the emotional turmoil inside. It was a silent demand to answer honestly, man to man, friend to friend. Balkan inclined his head, acknowledging the invitation and held up his hand, paper still clutched inside.

"And I found this in his rooms."

Flawless letters covered the sheet in the unmistakable hand of a noble. However, what really drew the dark-haired man´s attention was the single line at the top of the list.

'_How to get rid of Sonea'_

As rage threatened to flood his body he pushed it back and adapted the inner calm he had trained himself in when returning to the Guild as black magician and having to conceil his new powers. He couldn´t afford to act solely as Sonea´s husband. His being the High Lord always brought a political dimension to everything he did. He lifted his gaze and met the other man´s eyes.

"You found this in Regin´s room?"

"Yes."

"Do you recognise the handwriting?"

"Unfortunately, yes. It is Regin´s."

"I see."

"Look at the first point on the list."

Akkarin read the paragraph out loud.

"_Embarrass her during a social event with other nobles, show her up, make her commit mistakes in protocol." _

Regin had added some prompts like '_wrong address/social etiquette/ bowing/tea'. _In capital letters was written '_TEST HER (tea party? Issle, the others?)'. _Akkarin kept on reading silently.

"It explains a lot doesn´t it?"

Balkan´s voice wasn´t as strong as it usually was. He clearly didn´t like the implications he himself had hinted at. The young Winar had always been one of his favourites.

"I am not sure about this, Balkan. Have you read the other points on his list? He has put a lot of effort into this. It sounds like a whole battle plan. This is an emotionally motivated act, I am sure of this. I know that Regin never liked Sonea, was jealous and, yes, spiteful. The question is: Does he hate her enough to want to 'get rid of her'? And would he go to such lengths to reach his aim, simply for petty revenge?"

The other man reacted surprised at first, but quickly caught on to what Akkarin was trying to do. Since the Warrior had taken over the part of accuser Akkarin had decided to speak in Regin´s favour. It was an old conversational trick learned from his mother. If you wanted to reap the most of an argument represent both sides and try to come up with convincing arguments from both perspectives. Thus you will be well prepared when entering a political debate – and be certain in your final decisions. A lesson well learned.

So Balkan continued as Regin´s adversary. "In the past Regin has never let an opportunity slip by to embarrass and even hurt her. If she hadn´t beat him in the Arena he wouldn´t have stopped."

"Agreed, but that was before the war. He never showed signs of hatred afterwards. He did not attack her again."

"She is a black magician now... and your wife."

"Her being under my protection didn´t stop him before."

"Neither did you."

"Excuse me?" A warning undertone had crept into the High Lord´s voice. He hadn´t expected this turn of the conversation.

"Forgive me, but you must know that we all wondered why you chose to make her your novice in the first place. When you didn´t react to Regin´s treatment of her it was seen as silent encouragement, which had us even more puzzled." The old Warrior paused, eyeing him warily.

"Go on."

"Well, your motives became clear during your trial.After that it was truly Sonea´s motives that were questioned. Why would she choose exile with you over staying in the Guild and finishing her education? Anyways, when you returned as _lovers_ no one had any doubt that you would stop him _now._"

"Even if only in defending my honour as her husband?"

He himself could hear the sarcasm poorly hidden in this rhetorical question. Why did people find it so hard to believe that they truly loved each other? Honestly, what political reasons would he have had to marry her? But that was a topic for another day.

"I do not think that would be the main reason, no."

_Ah, well done old friend. _The High Lord allowed a small smile to grace his features.

"True."

The Head of the Warriors appeared to be pleased. It would seem that he had taken quite a liking to Sonea himself.

"Now – back to Regin and his list. Why try at all, now that he not only has to face me and my wrath but also prepare for graduation? Sonea could easily defeat him again, all on her own. Even worse for him, we would be joining against him. Furthermore, even without our positions as black magicians and our magical strength, I am still a powerful man in my own right. Regin´s and my family have been grudgingly allied for centuries. Why risk this fragile alliance along with everything he has worked for in the past? It does seem too ill-considered and risky, even if he truly hated her still. His plan would have to be executed on a far greater scope to truly harm Sonea or me. Something doesn´t add up."

"Still, he has collected quite a few good strategies on here. _Good _meaning _very likely to harm, _in this case. Take point three for example. '_Make her overreact and use her powers __ DANGER = discredit to HL'."_

"HL standing for High Lord, you assume?"

"Exactly. If she steps out of line too much it might put you and your reinstatement in question. Some of the nobles are still of the opinion that you are too powerful and shouldn´t be trusted, no matter your promises and recent sacrifices. To be fair a lot of our efforts are not visible to outsiders. The ceaseless labour with the volunteers or your lessons with the Heads are not widely known. People do not see the hard work, but they certainly see the dangers."

"Well-spoken, old friend. So it would seem that Sonea might not be the main goal, after all. So what is this about? A political move against me?"

"Against you personally or maybe against what you represent – change. Just think about your promises. An alliance with Sachaka? The hated enemies of past decades? Maybe Regin has been pushed by his family? The hatred against Sachaka runs deep in Kyralian blood, especially in the old families."

"Good point, Balkan, but I still cannot see how Regin would have any hope of succeeding with this ill-laid plan, however dangerous some of these points on his list are. I repeat, something doesn´t add up."

The older man nodded and sighed. "I guess that leaves us with only one possibility."

"Indeed. Has the boy returned yet?"

"Let´s see."

_Regin!_

Lord Balkan wore a fierce expression. His displeasure with his protégé was visible. Akkarin felt sorry for his old friend. For all his rough exterior the Head of the Warriors was a good-hearted man.

_Balkan?_

_Yes. Where are you?_

_I am on my way back to the Guild. Have you...have you heard...about–_

_Yes, of course I have heard about it. The whole Guild knows. I want you to come to the High Lord´s residence immediately after your arrival._

_The residence? Is this, but, the High Lord, he has already sent a messenger saying that he did not wish to pursue further action against my family, he–_

_**Regin!**_

_High Lord?_

_**I assure you that my earlier decisions still stand. I wish to speak with you concerning another matter.**_

_I understand, High Lord. _

_So, do what the High Lord asks of you._

_Of course. I will tell the driver to hurry._

_Do that._

Akkarin took a sip of his wine and swallowed slowly. As always the rich taste and spicy aroma of the Anuren helped him focus. He needed to inform Sonea. He stood up and moved towards the stairs.

" High Lord?"

"Balkan?"

"Wouldn´t it be prudent to inform the Administrator of this? It might have severe consequences for several Guild members, after all."

"I agree. Call him and order him back to the Guild. He must have finished with Issle´s family by now. I´ll fetch my wife."

"Sonea?"

Akkarin had to surpress a smirk. His friend didn´t normally pose such inane questions. Ah, well, Balkan asked for it, and damn, he needed to lighten his own mood anyway.

"Sonea who? No, one of my other wives hidden in my closet. Which one would you prefer?"

The other man grinned lopsidedly. "I walked right into that one, didn´t I? If I may say so, it´s good to see you haven´t lost your humour, under the circumstances. If I might elaborate, you want Sonea to take part in this confrontation?"

"Yes."

"Akkarin, I am not sure, if–"

"Forgive me, old friend, but her participation is not open to discussion. I have promised her to involve her in my decisions whenever they concern us both or her in particular."

The red-robed man smiled knowingly and inclined his head. "I see. I´ll contact Osen then."

"I´ll return immediately."

Akkarin swept out of the room and when he was no longer visible he hurried up the last steps. He needed to explain to Sonea what had been reveiled.

Fifteen minutes later a small and rather tense crowd had gathered in the Residence´s dining room. Lord Balkan had seated Regin with a rather dissatisfied jerk of his head. The younger man hadn´t needed to be told twice to sit down meekly. His own discomfort was clearly visible.

Lord Osen had arrived only two minutes later and had taken a seat facing the novice, mustering him sternly. There had not been enough time to inform the Administrator more than superfluously about the subject of the meeting. Still, it had been enough to grasp its implications.

The Head of the Warriors himself sought out the gaze of his young protégé and finally chose a seat next to him, a gesture of silent support. His expression, however clearly communicated that Regin would have to prove himself worthy of his regard or face consequences beyond mere displeasure. In contrast to his outwardly calm demeanour his right index finger was tapping against his thigh, a sure sign of agitation.

Just when the thickening silence had neared an unbearable intensity two pairs of footsteps could be heard approaching the room. Takan opened the door and the High Lord´s wife entered, followed closely by her husband.

_TBMD TBMD TBMD_

Regin took one look at the other novice and felt an icy-cold certainty grip his heart: _I have lost her_.

_Wait what? Lost her? I never even wanted to be her friend? Or what? I mean it was all about keeping my word and, and my plan, right?_

Any haughty display he might have had displayed under normal circumstances seemed childish and worthless now. His eyes followed the two black magicians as they went around the table and seated themselves opposite of him, the High Lord pulling out the chair for his wife before sitting down himself. Regin felt like a rat in front of a snake, or rather a whole pit of snakes, as three pairs of merciless Kyralian black eyes stared him down. He uncertainly looked to his right, searching the face of his mentor for any hint as to what was about to happen to him. He did not receive any reassurance there.

Finally the High Lord broke the silence and his cold and formal tone made the young man shiver.

"Regin of Winar, it has come to my attention that there remain some facts unclear pertaining to today´s unfortunate events at your party."

"My Lord?"

"Facts that must be settled here today. It would seem that more than one grave error of judgement has occurred. I intend to rectify that."

What was the black-robed man speaking of? He had already agreed to accept the Winars´ apologies. Would he go back on his word now? Regin felt slighted. The High Lord had lured him here, promising him that nothing had changed and now he dared to take it back? He didn´t know what this was all about, but he was finished with being unrightfully accused for one day. The young Winar frowned and straightened in his chair, his nostrils flaring. Before he could open his mouth and respond, however, Lord Balkan gripped him with merciless strength.

"Don´t you dare voice that thought, boy, or I´ll lose every hope I ever had for you."

"Thank you, Balkan. However, I myself am quite intrigued to hear what Regin has to say to me. Now, tell me, novice, what was it you wanted to hurl at my face?"

A Winar never failed to answer a direct challenge. "You promised that things had been settled between your family and mine. It´s not right to take back your word now."

The belated "High Lord" couldn´t be heard over the gasps filling the room. The black-robed man, of course, remained completely unfaced and in control. His stare seemed to cut right through Regin´s self-assured facade, laying bare the panicked uncertainty underneath.

"I see", was all he said. Nothing else. He just sat there and looked at him. Said nothing else and kept watching him with those frightening eyes. As seconds ticked by Regin felt like a constantly growing weight had settled on his chest, making it harder and harder to breath. Intellectually he knew that not even a minute had passed and still it felt like an eternity in which this frightful stare had already been directed at him. His eyes flicked over to search for Sonea´s, a question and a plea clearly visible in them.

The young woman´s lips curled in an unconscious imitation of those of her husband. It hurt to see the disdain etched in her features. "Don´t you dare expect support from me, Regin."

If he wasn´t mistaken there had been an undertone of hurt and even betrayal in her voice. He didn´t understand. Why would she be hurt by his actions during the party? He had defended her, hadn´t he? Of course, if she had known that he had purposely tried to embarrass her she might have —

Every last bit of colour drained from his face as realisation finally settled in. Regin didn´t know how they had found out, but he was certain about one thing: this was far worse than anything else that had happened today.


End file.
